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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27780892">Enough To Share?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPsaisa/pseuds/OTPsaisa'>OTPsaisa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rurouni Kenshin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Canon Dialogue, Canon-Typical Violence, Confusion, Developing Relationship, Dreams and Nightmares, End of Kyoto arc, Explicit Language, Friends With Benefits, Humor, Inner Dialogue, Jealousy, Jinchuu Arc, Love Triangles, M/M, Missing Scene, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), POV Alternating, POV Multiple, Pining, Porn With Plot, Pre-Relationship, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, idiots who are bad at emotions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:35:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,392</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27780892</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPsaisa/pseuds/OTPsaisa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Chou's plan for the day had been simple-<br/>1. deliver the news of the remaining Juppongatana to the Battousai,<br/>2. get something to eat since he was visiting the Shirobeko anyway,<br/>and<br/>3. spend the evening with a bottle of sake and his swords for company until morning came and he reported for his new job.<br/>Sagara Sanosuke following him into the street as he left the restaurant had <i>not</i> been part of the plan, but Chou soon found he was not complaining.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sagara Sanosuke/Saitou Hajime, Sagara Sanosuke/Saitou Hajime/Sawagejou Chou, Sagara Sanosuke/Sawagejou Chou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chou's plan for the day had been simple–<br/>
1. deliver the news of the remaining Juppongatana to the Battousai,<br/>
2. get something to eat since he was visiting the Shirobeko anyway,<br/>
and<br/>
3. spend the evening with a bottle of sake and his swords for company until morning came and he reported again for his fancy new government job.<br/>
</p><p>Sagara Sanosuke following him into the street as he left the restaurant had <i>not</i> been part of the plan, but Chou soon found he wasn't complaining. </p><p>After insults were exchanged–about equally ridiculous hair and lanky builds–the two agreed to a truce and Chou, being familiar with the local dives, took it upon himself to show Sanosuke a good time until the late hour found them wandering drunk through the streets of Kyoto. Sanosuke, who had 'borrowed' a bottle of sake from their last stop, had Chou laughing at a story too stupid to be real as enough money was counted out for the closest inn.</p><p>Checking into a room had been easy, but getting to it had proven more difficult as they supported each other unsteadily up a single flight of stairs. They had barely managed to get the door locked behind them before their feet tangled and sent them sprawling to the floor where Chou's world continued spinning, requiring far too much concentration to recognize the weight on top of him as Sanosuke. A chuckle rumbled along his neck as they stayed there, unmoving, until–finally done laughing–Sanosuke lifted his head. Chou's brain swam through a shallow pool of rice alcohol as he considered his options, which mostly included a pair of supple lips now directly in his line of sight, and he was forced to swallow before the noise building in his throat gave him away. Sanosuke's thigh shifted, pushing against his groin, until there was no doubt left that the roosterhead could feel how hard he'd grown. </p><p>"Sorry, houki." Sanosuke's smile turned sheepish as he pushed onto all fours, straddling Chou but pausing to sway above him. The loss immediately soured Chou's mood because despite the air in that room being stuffy as hell–the new sweat on their skin proof of that–having that solid, wiry body against his own felt damn good. Without a second thought, he grabbed Sanosuke by the black edges of his jacket and pulled, closing the remaining gap as Sanosuke scrambled over his words; wide eyes widened even further as Chou abandoned both handfuls of cloth to wind his fingers through the messy shag of Sanosuke's thick hair. He waited for resistance–being pleasantly surprised when none came–and eventually, clumsily, Sanosuke kissed him back. The first time their teeth clacked together though, Chou used his tangled grip to take control.  </p><p>It resembled wrestling more than anything else as clothing was discarded in a flurry of mixed fabrics and Sanosuke–clearly holding back in the strength department–allowed Chou to lay him out on his back. Fingers–slicked with the contents of a vial Chou kept on-hand for such occasions–slid between Sanosuke's bent legs, making him squirm, but it was Chou's lips on the shallow concave of an obvious impaling from once upon a time that made Sanosuke startle, pushing Chou away. </p><p>"<i>Don't.</i>" Sanosuke glared, lowering his voice and making the now-forbidden mark more tempting. Chou couldn't help himself and leaned in again with defiance. He <i>liked</i> scars and wanted to run his tongue all over that one–still pink, as if only recently healed–sitting beneath Sanosuke's clavicle, but a hand on his chest stopped him. "Try it again 'n I swear I'll beat your ass, Chou."</p><p>"Ohh, one of us is gettin' his ass beat by the end of t'night." The crease of Sanosuke's brow deepened. "Fine fine <i>fine</i>. If ya ain't into that, I'll find somethin' else ya do like." Conceding, but annoyed, Chou licked at the hollow dip between collarbones before nosing north to the softer spots along Sanosuke's jaw. The thundering heartbeat beneath his tongue had the sword-hunter growling and he gripped Sanosuke's hips to hitch them higher, renewing the oil on his fingers before sliding the tip of one beyond that first ungodly tight ring of–</p><p>"Wait!" </p><p>"What <i>now</i>?!" Chou was rapidly reaching the limits of his patience and pushed Sanosuke's arm away as it swung towards his face, only to find himself thrown across the room a moment later. "What the fuck is yer deal?!"</p><p>Sanosuke sat up with a scowl, hair shooting out in every direction, and he stared hard before his face twitched, splitting into a grin; he was laughing at the crumpled heap of naked Chou on  floor. "You look ridiculous!"</p><p>"Yer one to fuckin' talk, partner!" Chou recovered, sitting back on his haunches and throwing one of his own discarded gloves at the roosterhead. It was the pot calling the kettle black when Sanosuke looked like <i>that</i>. This <i>idiot </i>who apparently couldn't even be bother to comb the rat's nest on his head, and his stupid face with its big mouth and ugly cheekbones; the too-hard lines of his body–all awkward and too gangly—that caught light and cast harsh shadows along the ridges of his abdomen as he reclined on bent elbows with his thighs still spread and fu–<i>uh–uh–uck</i>, Chou wanted him. Bad. He wanted to plow Sanosuke into the floor while also strangling the hell out of him, but Chou only groaned at the apprehension simmering in the air. "C'mon. Spill. Why'd we stop?"</p><p>Sanosuke's face flushed, the color spreading down his neck and across the tops of his capped shoulders; it was intriguing, and amusing, and Chou wondered how much brighter he could get before they were through. Nervously rubbing at his pink face, Sanosuke spoke muffled words into his palms. </p><p>"Huh?" Chou was certain he'd heard wrong. </p><p>"I've never done that before..." Sanosuke admitted just a little louder, dropping his hands to his lap as Chou's shoulders shook with laughter.</p><p>"<i>Holy shit</i>–yer a fuckin' <i>virgin</i>?!" Everything suddenly made sense; the awful kisses, his hesitation, the progressively spreading blush: Chou thought it had been the alcohol and never suspected anything quite like this.  </p><p>"Don't laugh at me, you <i>prick!</i>" Sanosuke snapped and ducked his head; hiding the prominent vein of annoyance in his temple as his clenching jaw clicked. </p><p>"Nah, I ain't laughin' <i>at</i> ya, partner!" Chou knew his grin was wicked as he crawled towards Sanosuke. He wasn't sure if the delicate <i>virgin</i>–Chou laughed internally because that was almost too unbelievable–would lash out if he tried his luck, but as long as he got off he didn't care and accepted the likelihood that he'd get hit. In order to get close enough to pick up where they left off, he would need to choose whatever would be his next words wisely and hope he didn't screw himself out of what was possibly the only chance he'd ever get at climbing into Sanosuke's pants. Hopefully some playful teasing would be enough to ease the tension: "I'm laughin' at my good fortune is all–swear on my life, that's it! Just ain't ever had the opportunity to deflower a rooster before."</p><p>Sanosuke's hesitantly positive response was grumbled as the sword-hunter advanced, coaxing the brunet to lie back down. Chou slid bare hands over the line of Sanosuke's thighs, under his knees, stopping only once he reached a set of slim ankles to hook them over his own shoulders. </p><p>"Ya know, I can make us both feel real good." Chou was rewarded with a low moan as he mouthed Sanosuke's calf, but when he reached the inner arch of an unbound foot, Sanosuke balked and swatted at Chou's face with the extremity. </p><p>"Damn it..." Sanosuke grunted, arm stretching blindly in search of something. Chou leaned sideways after catching on, finding the forgotten jug just within reach. He broke the seal and took the first pull before passing it to Sanosuke, who had risen to his elbows as best he could while partially trapped below another body. Gulping mouthfuls of liquid courage, he finally gave in with a long exhale: "Okay–okay, <i>fuck it</i>. Do me."</p><p>Chou did<i> not </i>need to be told twice and shoved Sanosuke down, sake spilling across the tatami as the bottle rolled. Chou felt a yank on his hair before Sanosuke jerked his bandaged hand away, hissing with a wince at the pain; it just made Chou want to see what other kinds of faces he could get the roosterhead to make. Challenging himself to find out exactly that, Chou scooted himself lower to take Sanosuke into his mouth and worked him over until he was relaxed enough for three slick fingers. Sanosuke grimaced; chewing at his lip and sucking breath between his teeth, left hand flexing until the joints popped. Eventually he realized the noises he was making and hid behind an arm.  </p><p>Chou–grinning at what was rapidly becoming a near constant, incoherent whine–took him to the edge of breaking multiple times before pulling free with an obscene squelch. He knew he needed to take the next step easy, but the thought nearly abandoned him the exact moment he entered Sanosuke. Everything felt so good and so tight around him that he just wanted to bury himself alive in it.</p><p>"Your skinny little broom stick isn't gonna break me, ya know—nhh." Sanosuke's smirk was forced, half hidden in the crook of his elbow; it left his armpit exposed and Chou buried his face before nipping at the surrounding muscle, receiving a startled noise that molded into something softer. All ten fingers dug into Sanosuke's ass to fix the placement of his hips until Chou had him angled exactly how he knew would–in his personal opinion–feel best, bending Sanosuke just shy of in-half to the tune of confused protests. Everything involuntarily clenched around Chou to a nearly unbearable level.</p><p>"Ya keep tightenin' up like that and ya might just break off my lil broom stick instead," Chou gasped. He was warm. The air was warm. Everything was so damn warm. Grabbing Sanosuke's leg to get at beaded sweat–because he, too, was warm–Chou licked his skin clean, pushing that leg higher as he drove in again.</p><p>"Stop trying to break my fucking back and maybe I won't tighten up–<i> Fuck– </i>ow!<i> nngh</i>." </p><p>Annoyed at Sanosuke's bitching, but knowing better than to listen to that first goading insistence, he took his sweet old time getting settled, using more oil than probably necessary and watching Sanosuke dig little half-moon craters into his arms as they crossed over his face. Chou sucked at every mouthful of flesh he could find, pausing when he bottomed out; sitting back to find Sanosuke's eyes through the gaps in his arms, he could only catch glimpses of white as dark lashes fluttered. A breathless grunt so soft it was nearly silent left Sanosuke's mouth in repetition. With a <i>"can I?"</i>–since he was <i>trying</i> to be gentle–Chou started moving, building a steady pace until one thrust in particular proved too much and had the roosterhead spitting curses at him. </p><p>"Apologies, tori. Bad position to break you in." Chou chucked, mouthing at the knob of one ankle before dropping Sanosuke's legs from his shoulders to relax around his waist. Rearranging pliant arms, Chou uncovered Sanosuke's face and almost came at the sight of him: all bleary eyed and blissed out, mouth slack around a constant stream of wordless noises. He started again, slower, and Sanosuke tensed, grabbing at his shoulders but not pushing him away. Chou, touching everything he could get his hands on, couldn't bite back the urge to <i>really</i> bite any longer. He got his teeth into the meat of Sanosuke's <i>other</i> shoulder and sank them deeper at the unexpected <i>"fuck yes"</i> he received.</p><p>Heat coiled in his belly and he was unable to withstand the tease of such a slow pace any longer. Planting a hand slay-fingered on the mat near Sanosuke's head, Chou reached between them and won more desperate noises: Sanosuke begging that Chou just <i>fucking touch him</i>. He did, watching Sanosuke bite his lip and squeeze his eyes shut, before opened with a roll as he came.</p><p>"Holy<i>sh–shit</i>, Ch–<i>ahh!</i>" Chest to chest, Chou pinned Sanosuke down, shutting him up with a kiss before pulling out and away to mark up his stomach. He sat back, shaking the daze of orgasm from his head, and caught Sanosuke frowning at the mess, then up at him with a huff. "That's fucking gross, Chou. And, what the fuck, my <i>armpit</i>? <i>Really</i>?!"</p><p>Chou, laughing in disbelief–at Sanosuke's offense to being covered in cum or just Sanosuke being there and covered in cum in general, he wasn't sure–stood on wobbly legs to cross the room for something to clean up. Sanosuke rolled away, reaching for the spilled jug, and Chou snuck up behind him as he returned, admiring the angry red of a friction burn across that broad back. There were bruises shaped liked fingertips on Sanosuke's hips and on a cheek, with matching tatami scrapes, a scar more recent than the one on his shoulder. Chou ran his finger along its length and had his feet kicked out from under him before he could dodge. Once again, he grumbled from a heap on the ground: "y'know, yer really startin' ta piss me off, rooster-boy–"</p><p>"Shut up, idiot.... I'm so tired." Sanosuke's head lolled against the mat as he lazily grabbed for the sheet in Chou's grasp, wiping at his abdomen once he had it and then throwing it back. Visibly exhausted, he stood on equally unstable legs, venturing across the room to dig out one of the inn's standard issued futons before collapsing onto it without another word. Chou didn't follow, feeling jilted as he cleaned himself, and debated just leaving–even though the room was paid for with <i>his</i> money–or perhaps kicking Sanosuke out and forcing the ungrateful twerp to take an exceptionally ruffled, long walk of shame–complete with a cluster of darkening marks across most of his normally exposed flesh–all the way back to the Shirobeko to explain just <i>what the hell happened </i>when his friends got nosey. Chou perked up when Sanosuke made a noise that seemed pointed and he turned, finding the decision made for him by a set of sleepy eyes looking over the covers expectantly. "You comin' or what?"</p><p>Chou tossed the soiled sheet aside and joined him, yanking at the blanket Sanosuke was trying to hog. He wasn't much of a cuddler, had never been much for sharing a bed either, but Chou accepted it anyway when the roosterhead relaxed against him and found it almost preferable–this one time–to spending the night alone. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Of course; tori- bird, houki- broom.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The following morning began as one of the best Chou had experienced in a long while: with Sanosuke mostly on top of him, half asleep with a sheet over his head and grumbling about his hangover. Not often did he allow another to stay the night, but bed company meant the potential of a repeat performance and Chou wasn't going to say no to that. Eventually, Sanosuke departed and that had marked the end of his good morning. He'd received a ration of grief for showing up late–which had been expected–but what wasn't expected was the looming mountain of paperwork awaiting completion on his desk. Obscene memories distracted him, resulting in an uncomfortable and reoccurring tightening in his pants which led to multiple, ridiculous errors in his reports. </p><p>The final topping on the shit-cake that was his day came in a cloud of tobacco smoke– "have you no shame, Sawagejo?"– upon delivery of said reports. Chou could feel those eyes burning judgemental holes into the bitten skin of his neck and he cursed himself for not covering them better. Brushing it off with as much nonchalance as he could muster under such scrutiny, Chou stepped out of the office and into the hall. Just as the door shut, he got the last word with a scoff: "jealous, ya prude?" </p><p>Chou weighed his options for the remainder of his shift as he entered the station's bullpen; he could stay there under the constant sneer of a grumpy-assed, cricket-faced bastard who didn't seem to like him very much <i>or</i> just leave and go on 'patrol' to waste time in the fresh air, maybe even find himself some lunch. Turning his back on the few officers lingering around the lobby, he adjusted his swords and made his decision.</p><p>—</p><p>Summer in Kyoto had so far been oppressively hot and thick with clouds, so when blue skies and a pleasant breeze greeted him, Chou's mood improved significantly. Pushing his way through the throng of foot traffic in the market, Chou weaved between shop stands and, keeping a lazy hold on his weapons, earned himself a few protests as a wandering sheath ventured places it didn't belong. Ignoring it all, a smile crinkled at his open eye and he breathed deep the scent of spiced meat in the air until his stomach echoed the crowd's rumbling and he considered diving back into the fray for what smelled like freshly made yakiniku. He settled on sweets as the walkway cleared and a kyo-gashi stand caught his eye, deciding that would be preferable to a second attempt at navigating the swarm.</p><p>Escaping the densest part of town, he found himself following a raised path along the river and, digging sticky fingers into the box of sweets, wasted no time popping another into his mouth with a sigh. A morning fuck, playing hooky, candy, his <i>freedom</i>(mostly, since he was still tethered to the government but at least he wasn't trapped in a cell); content with those things, he could ignore the annoying shit that had happened in between. He wasn't going to let anything ruin that day for him, no siree. He was happy as a clam and wanted to chase that high for the rest of the– </p><p>Chou reached for another and a sharp pain clipped him between the eyes, causing him to fumble his grip and nearly drop the box. Scowling into the confections, a chunk of stone stood out against the pastel shapes surrounding it. </p><p>"I thought your reflexes woulda been better than that."</p><p>Chou whipped around with a single-eyed glare and found Sanosuke standing on the riverbank near a small boat, more pebbles bouncing in his hand. </p><p>"Ya got good aim fer a bird-brained punk." Chou barked, ducking a second projectile and shutting the lid on his sweets. Navigating the sloped embankment while dodging stones that missed as often as they hit, he joined Sanosuke. </p><p>"What'd you bring me?" Sanosuke questioned, raising his chin and smelling the air; Chou had a feeling that guy had a nose like a hound dog.</p><p>"Ain't got shit fer ya, partner." Chou tucked his treats into a pocket, hoping Sanosuke would just forget about it. </p><p>"Then I'll find a bigger rock." Kicking a larger stone up with the toe of his shoe, Sanosuke caught it and pulled his arm back to aim. </p><p>"'n I'll arrest ya fer assaultin' an officer." That knocked the wind from Sanosuke's sails and he rolled his eyes at Chou. </p><p>"Yeah yeah, whatever. Get a little bit of authority and you start throwing it around like the rest of the fucking government." Sanosuke frowned, tossing the stone into the river.</p><p>"What're ya doin' out here? Shouldn't ya be with yer friends?" Chou asked, ignoring his complaint, but he didn't really care about the others, instead far more interested in Sanosuke after last night.</p><p>"They're all busy with Kenshin so I got out of the way before they put me to work, then I found this boat and figured I'd just take it out for a bit." Sanosuke shrugged as he looked around, yanking a thick blade of grass from the ground and shaking off the dirt. </p><p>"First ya wanna assault an officer 'n now yer gonna steal a boat?" Chou couldn't look away as Sanosuke placed it between lips too damn soft for the syllables rolling from them. </p><p>"It's not stealing if I bring it back." Tapping a finger to his temple, Sanosuke beamed at his own logic as the weed wiggled between his teeth. The breeze caught Sanosuke's jacket, revealing teeth shaped bruises and making Chou inwardly curse as he felt himself hardened. "If you don't have shit to do, you should join me."</p><p>"Yeah, 'n risk gettin' my ass chewed by my boss again? No thanks, partner." <i>Speakin' of chewin', stop chewin' on that damn thing and chew on me. </i></p><p>"We won't even be out there an hour, just long enough to relax a little and get some sun." Sanosuke pulled off his shoes, throwing them into the boat before pushing it towards the water and hopping in. "You coming or what?"</p><p>Chou huffed and chased after as Sanosuke's smile widened. The river opened into a lake as Sanosuke paddled the borrowed dinghy far enough from shore to avoid prying eyes. They were in the middle of open water, but surrounded by land and trees; luckily for them, because Chou didn't entirely trust Sanosuke to not somehow wind up in the ocean. </p><p>"It's quiet here. I like it." Sanosuke said around his chew toy, laying the paddle in the boat and leaning back. </p><p>"Was quiet 'til we showed up." Chou hung over the side to cup his hand and splash water at the other man. He quickly righted himself, grabbing at the rocking boat as Sanosuke defensively flailed. "Hold still!"</p><p>"You jackass!" Wiping his face with his sleeve, Sanosuke's eyes turned mischievous and Chou had no time to counter as he was kicked in the chest. Thankful he had thought to leave his red yukata, swords, and treats in the boat, Chou hit the water and went under. </p><p>Resurfacing, Chou sputtered and pushed the hair from his eyes as Sanosuke's roaring laughter hit him. He tread water as he weighed the consequences of flipping the boat, swords and all. Deciding against it, he swam the short way back and cursed Sanosuke though he offered a hand and steadied the small vessel. </p><p>Once on-board, Chou ripped his bandana off, ringing the water from both it and his collapsing hair. "Yer so friggin' lucky I can swim."</p><p>Sanosuke didn't reply and Chou wound the cloth tight to snap him with it, pausing when he saw how Sanosuke was looking at him. "What?"</p><p>Sanosuke blushed and cleared his throat. Tossing the grass into the water, he muttered, "you look good like that." </p><p>"Huh?" It took him a moment, but Chou realized that he must not have been the only one distracted all day with thoughts of that morning and the previous night. He had been a little worried when he first found Sanosuke at the river, thinking they would go back to being less than allies, but apparently the roosterhead had been just as affected. He felt his ego inflate, "yeah? Ya like what ya see, ya little perv?"</p><p>"Don't get cocky." </p><p>"Don't git cocky, huh? Ya weren't complainin' about how <i>cocky</i> I was last night." Sanosuke gulped, eyes widening, as Chou carefully moved across the boat towards him. </p><p>"What the fuck are you thinking, broomhead?" Despite the protest in his voice, the front of Sanosuke's pants shifted. </p><p>"I should fuck you right on this here boat, consider it payback fer tossin' me overboard." It was the most seductive growl Chou could muster and he hoped his accent added to it instead of making him sound ridiculous. </p><p>"What if somebody sees us!? Then it's not just stealing a boat, it's public indecency. Right, officer?" Sanosuke glanced around as Chou climbed on top of him. </p><p>"It's only public indecency if we get caught. And if someone does happen ta see us, nobody'll recognize the limp-haired blond on top of ya 'n I'll make sure I'm long gone before the cops arrive, so it really ain't my problem." Chou's hand raked through his wet hair, pushing it from his face to fall against his bare back and shoulders. He knew he'd won when Sanosuke called him a prick and reclined as far back as the boat allowed; Chou pushed his jacket open further, thumbing at the purple blossoms on his skin.</p><p>"What if we flip the boat?" Sanosuke was starting to annoy the shit out of him.</p><p>"I'll go slow, be all gentle 'n shit, that way the boat's kept from rockin' too much." Chou rolled his eyes, flicking at Sanosuke's nipple. "You jus' worry 'bout yerself 'n yer flailin'. Got anymore excuses?" </p><p>—</p><p>Sanosuke was right, it had only been about an hour before they returned to shore, giving Chou's hair time to dry. It perked up a little, but instead of standing tall, it puffed out, and he tied it in a knot on top of his head. He didn't care if he looked like a wreck, or stank of lake water, as long as his belongings were accounted for, though the little box of treats had been sacrificed when he parted ways with Sanosuke, who's lazy post-orgasm smile brightened when presented with the sweets; Chou had enjoyed them, but he liked that smile even more. </p><p><i>It's been two days and I'm fuckin' attached.</i> Chou could kick himself, but he wasn't as opposed to the idea as he probably should've been. </p><p>"And where were you?" Returning to the station had been a fucking mistake. Turning to face his boss, Chou prepared himself for the worst, knowing that a fresh patch of pink and red marked him beneath his jaw.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So there is Lake Biwa northeast of Kyoto but I fudged the topography/geography or w/e to make it work. I don't know how far away it would actually be from the police station or town in RK's Kyoto, but *shrug*</p><p>Yakiniku - grilled meat. </p><p>Kyogashi or Kyoto Wagashi: traditional sweets from Kyoto. There's a wide variety, made of sweetened bean paste, sometimes filled with jelly, fruit, or nuts.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Saitou wasn't entirely sure what he had been thinking when he agreed to bring Chou on as his spy. He was certain the man would be of some use, eventually, but until then he had already proven himself to be a nuisance. Showing up late and covered in bite marks was as unacceptable as it was unsightly and Saitou spared no words when reminding him. Thankfully, the issue seemed to be resolving itself as bruises healed and Chou arrived on time every morning after the initial offense; he worked hard, spending most of his time behind a desk– unless Saitou needed him to snoop around elsewhere– but the moment his shift ended, he was out of there, eager to do... well, Saitou didn't even want to know what– or who, but the job was completed correctly so Saitou held his tongue, intending to do so until that idiot showed up late with hickies again. </p><p>Police Commissioner Kawaji was still talking his ear off; he had transferred to Kyoto after the Shishio incident, wanting to keep an eye on the case, and was proving himself to be just as annoying as the rest of the officials breathing down Saitou's neck. Since recovering from his fiery escape at Mt. Hiei, Saitou met with him every day to touch base on the aftermath of Shishio's failed plan and the damned battleship that had arrived from seemingly no where. So far there was little to go on and Saitou, finding their meetings to be repetitive and pointless, spent the time mulling over unrelated issues as Kawaji yabbered on. He typically offered monosyllabic responses and nothing more, but his patience had finally worn thin.</p><p>"We will reconvene tomorrow, see where we stand." Kawaji stood to dismiss him. </p><p>"Perhaps we would find a better use of our time in meeting once there are actual developments to discuss." Though Saitou was ready to take his leave, he would be dissatisfied if the same encounter faced him the next morning.</p><p>"We must be on top of this! We must bring order back to Kyoto, continue to rebuild what has been damaged, and find a way to reinstate trust with the people before it spreads into Tokyo and the rest of Japan. Knowing there could be more ships out there would cause chaos–" The glare Kawaji received was enough to shut his mouth. </p><p>"When I have further information, you will be the first to know. But until then, I won't waste valuable time rehashing old details and unconfirmed gossip." With that and a curt bow, Saitou excused himself. He shut the door behind him and paused in the hallway, keen senses on edge, picking up the unconcealed and overflowing presence of someone that did not belong in that building. He reached the end of the hall and peered through the window of the lobby's door.</p><p>Bright white against a swarm of blue, Sagara Sanosuke stood with his marked back to the rest of the precinct, facing Chou who was seated at his desk. Saitou waited in the vacant corridor, wondering what business the roosterhead had with his subordinate as the boy wasn't angry or restrained; he was just talking, body language emphasizing whatever nonsense he was spouting, as Chou ate it up. Saitou, planning to slip out of that hall and down another towards his own office, waited until he was sure the idiot was thoroughly immersed to open the door and throw a sharp glance around, shutting up anyone before they could consider addressing him. He neared the other door as Chou looked up and their eyes met, Chou's widening, which caught Sanosuke's attention as he began to turn. Any questions Saitou had about the nature of Chou's after-work activities were answered as he shot up and yanked the rooster towards him; Sanosuke, bracing against the desk with a startled grunt, didn't pull away as Chou aggressively kissed him. The men in the room fell into stunned silence until someone whooped and others echoed with scattered cat-calls and heckling. </p><p>Chou's eyes, visible over Sanosuke's shoulder, burned holes through Saitou as his hands gripped the back of Sanosuke's head and waist. Saitou, catching on, slipped out of sight, pausing to lurk at the window. For the first time since being stationed in Kyoto, he found himself thankful for the hall's poor lighting and thin wooden door, allowing Saitou to eavesdrop with little effort. </p><p>"What the fuck was that for?!" Sanosuke, finally released, wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and whipped around to curse at the officers in the room. "Bunch of fucking voyeurs!"</p><p>"Yer lips were movin' 'n they looked too good not ta kiss." Chou grinned, though it was noticeably forced, and flopped into his chair. Saitou waited for any hint that he'd been seen as Chou eyed the door but the look was unfocused and fleeting– hopefully a good sign as Sanosuke, once again, caught on and turned, skeptically searching the door with furrowed brows and a petulant pout until Chou threw a nearby trinket at Sanosuke's face, hitting his cheek. "Get back to yer story."</p><p>Sanosuke's eyes narrowed further in suspicion before he faced Chou again. "The story isn't really that important but I did come to tell you that we're heading back to Tokyo tomorrow."</p><p>"Yer leavin'? Already?" Chou stiffened. </p><p>"Yeah, Kenshin's mostly back to his old self and the little missy's gotta get back to her dojo, so it's time to go." Sanosuke rubbed at the back of his neck before shoving his hands in his pockets. </p><p>"Can't ya just stay a little longer by yerself?"</p><p>"How the hell am I supposed to do that when I don't have any money, broomhead? Besides, I gotta get back to my apartment before my landlord thinks I bailed and starts selling my shit."</p><p>"Shit." Chou looked away from Sanosuke, drumming his fingers against the desk between them. Disappointment briefly scrunched his face before he retrieved his swords and stood, heading for the door. "Come'on, yer not leavin' without a proper Sawagejo goodbye."</p><p>Sanosuke studied the cloudy glass for a final time before taking two steps back and pivoting to follow Chou. Saitou watched the exchange with a spark of jealousy which further ignited as Sanosuke unknowingly faced him; that idiot should know better than to flaunt that much bare skin when it was covered in so many markings; ones similar to those worn by his subordinate a week or so before. He scoffed and pushed away intrusive thoughts concerning the activities that had likely taken place, leaving teeth shaped bruises on <i>both</i> of those idiots.</p><p>Of all the people Chou could have gotten himself wrapped up in, it just had to be that bone-head. How long before Chou let it slip that Saitou was still alive? He had almost blown everything with his wandering eyes just now, what would a wandering tongue say? What had it already said? The annoyance felt could not wholly be placed on Chou, Saitou decided as he finally entered his office, shutting himself in and sinking into the chair at his desk. No, not wholly, as part of the annoyance was to be blamed on himself. Allowing Sanosuke to tag along when dealing with the Rengoku and the challengers at Mt. Hiei had been beneficial, there was no doubt in that, but it had opened the way for unwanted attractions to grow. </p><p>Sanosuke was vexing, annoying, foul– the filter on his mouth broken, if it existed at all– he said anything and everything that crossed his mind, not caring how he sounded but exploding if called out on his own idiocy. Admittedly, he had strength, but it was untrained– not to mention likely useless for now considering the damage he had done to himself by overusing that double layer punch. Overall, he was a disrespectful thug with a bad temper, no restraint, and a broken hand; the only impressive thing about him being his unique ability to get under Saitou's skin like no other.</p><p>Saitou groaned, remembering himself in his youth; loath as he was to admit it, he had been a bit of a loose cannon himself. Hot-headed in spite of his upbringing– for god's sake, he accidentally killed a man at eighteen– until the time had come to serve his country, forcing maturity to take hold, though occasionally his own poor temper still tried to get the better of him. According to his research, Sanosuke had already served his country and despite that country failing him, in ways no nine year old should ever know, he persevered, though maybe a little misguided. It took heart to stand tall in the face of such treachery and Saitou knew at that age he may not have been as resilient; yes, Sanosuke had the makings of a great man if he would just get his act together. </p><p>Saitou rolled an unlit cigarette between his fingers as he reflected, unsure of the moment the attraction took hold but knowing it had been there for some time. Maybe as early as their first meeting, when he'd driven that flimsy saber through Sanosuke's shoulder and left him unconscious in a pool of his own blood? Saitou had almost felt remorseful then, the kid was just in the wrong place at the wrong time with too much fight and too little self-preservation, but every time he caught sight of that scar– when Sanosuke was aggitated in Chou's jail cell, or soaked to the bone once joining them on the Rengoku, or after finally collapsing from his fight against Anji– he couldn't quite bridle the unidentifiable mixture of emotions it inspired. </p><p>Or, perhaps, it started during that same fight with Anji, when he witnessed the brawler overcome his limits; no weak man could fight on willpower alone and seeing first hand how much stronger he could be in spite of his physical limitations proved that Sanosuke wasn't entirely hopeless. Regardless of the exact event that had piqued his interests, by the end of that fight he was undeniably infatuated.</p><p>He stopped playing with the cigarette and lit it, grateful for the calming numb of nicotine as he mulled over the appeal of the younger man. Sanosuke was attractive, even he couldn't argue that fact; had he been around during the time of the Shinsengumi, Saitou certainly would have taken him as a lover, but his own youth would have played a factor and now pretty faces were not enough to keep his interest. Sanosuke's personality was a little too rough around the edges, but time could change things, there was still potential for the man he could become...</p><p>Saitou groaned, exhaling thick smoke. It didn't matter the man Sagara Sanosuke could become, it didn't matter how tempting he was physically; none of that mattered, because for all intents and purposes Saitou Hajime was a dead man and Sawagejo Chou had won himself the roosterhead's affection.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>According to the real Saitou Hajime's wikipedia (and other sources), he accidentally killed a hatamoto (samurai in the direct service of the Tokugawa shogunate of feudal Japan) at 18 before leaving Edo to teach at a dojo and then eventually joining the Shinsengumi. It doesn't go into how or why.</p><p>And yeah, Kawaji is the Tokyo police commissioner, but idc I'm throwing him in there.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The day had arrived for the Kenshingumi's departure and though Chou had tried everything he could think of to keep Sanosuke from leaving–</p><p>
  <i>"Free food every day!"</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Pfft, I can get that anyway."</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"The best sex of yer life, tori!"</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"The only sex of my life, houki."</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"But what if I let ya top?!"</i>
</p><p>–he'd been unsuccessful. Even teasing the birdbrain about his fear of trains (which Chou discovered on one of the many "patrols" he had spent with Sanosuke, when the man went pale and nearly crawled out of his skin as the afternoon locomotive flew whistling by) did nothing to sway his decision; quite the opposite, in fact, as it backfired and got him yelled at, making Chou the target of Sanosuke's agitation until he made up for it by sending the punk off with snacks for the trip. </p><p><i>"Come see me in Tokyo some time, partner. I'll be around."</i> Sanosuke had said with a low drawl, pitifully mimicking a Kansai accent. Chou knew that the kid had no money to his name, so it was unlikely a return trip to Kyoto would happen anytime soon, but he had a steady enough income now and could probably visit– if he could get out from under his boss' thumb for a bit– but it wouldn't be for months unless something led their case to Tokyo. </p><p>He heard the steam engine whistle from across town and smirked as a flock of little birds startled from their perches; he imagined a jittery Sanosuke, white as a ghost and forcibly wedged between his friends in an attempt to keep him from jumping out of the locomotive's window. It made Chou want to laugh until he remembered exactly who was in that room with him. </p><p>"You sure ya did the right thing? Not tellin' 'em yer all safe and sound, I mean." Chou turned from the glass through which he'd been watching the outside world and leaned against the window's sill as he addressed Saitou. He got the feeling that he shouldn't even be asking, they weren't friends and were currently only associated through this deal that made him a government dog, but Chou was a nosey bastard and not a huge fan of holding his tongue. "I coulda sworn that some of them were worried about'cha." </p><p>"I was only temporarily joining forces with the Battousai. When the mission ended, so did our relationship."</p><p>"Is that the god's honest truth?" Chou couldn't help prying, he was curious about the roosterhead's relationship with the former Shinsengumi captain. Their excessive drinking the night before– a last hurrah of sorts– had revealed more than the other may have intended but the sex it later led to drew no complaints from Chou. Witnessing Sanosuke so wrecked made Chou want him even more, even if the rooster had been drunkenly pining over his very much alive boss. Sanosuke hadn't really cried, no, he cursed, yelled, and ranted until Chou put that energy to <i>very</i> good use. Slamming that angry little twerp to the ground and pinning him by his throat got every one of Chou's sadistic gears turning, and it was obvious Sanosuke wanted it rough then too; shit, he could've thrown Chou off of him at any time, but he didn't, he just laid there and took it like a good little–</p><p>The derisive air of Saitou's voice derailed him from that dangerous train of thought before it could stir junior awake in his pants. </p><p>"Hn. He and I are both destined to return to the battlefield. We'll see each other again, I'm sure it's only a matter of time. I have nothing to say to him since we may be enemies again. That way, I can finally settle the score that I have that dates back to the revolution, once and for all." Gold eyes narrow and unfeeling, he spoke on only the Battousai; not a mention of Sanosuke, not even an insult, and it did nothing to shut up the nagging in Chou's mind. Perhaps it was one-sided on Sanosuke's part, or, Chou considered, maybe he was reading entirely too much into it. But Sanosuke broke down the night before at the looming reality of leaving Kyoto– because Saitou and their fight <i>died</i> there– and Chou found it strange how inconsolable Sanosuke had been over such a supposedly hated rival. Chou definitely did not understand how Sanosuke's pea brain operated, but he had been <i>so upset</i>– no, Chou was sure there was something going on, even if it wasn't reciprocated. </p><p>"What about the roosterhead?" Chou waited for any hint in Saitou's expression that could reveal more than he was willing to verbalize. </p><p>"What about him?" No dice; Saitou's eyes were cold and Chou knew then that he'd find nothing helpful there.</p><p>"He was yer ally too. Ya don't care if he thinks yer dead?"</p><p>"If he is heartbroken over my death, I suppose you will just have to continue to comfort him." Saitou held his gaze and Chou was unsure if the challenge he saw there wasn't just imagined. "Unless you don't think you can manage it."</p><p>"I can <i>manage it</i> jus' fine, partner." Chou bit out. He should've kept his trap shut and if he allowed the conversation to continue in that direction, he was sure he would not be able to contain his suddenly flaring temper. "Now unless ya need me, I got shit ta do."</p><p>When no reply came, just a haze of exhaled smoke polluting the air, Chou left. He shut the door calmly, but as soon as the latch clicked, he was bitching under his breath about how much of an <i>asshole</i> that man could be. Fucking prick. His attraction to Sanosuke had him a little biased and he still didn't have an answer to the question of 'what the hell was up with the roosterhead', but he would need to just get over it because, hot-tempered as he was, it would do him no good to blow up and risk getting his amnesty deal revoked. </p><p>—</p><p>Saitou sank into his chair as the door clicked shut, knowing that Chou was likely cursing him on the other side. Snubbing out his cigarette, he relaxed, letting his head rest against the high wooden back; Chou's footsteps retreated and he exhaled in annoyance before getting the next cigarette to his lips and lit. </p><p><i>There is work to do and it would never get done if I had both of you idiots breathing down my neck.</i> He pushed up from the desk, stepping away to assume the space Chou left vacant at the window. Movement drew his eyes to the tall maple tree on the other side of the glass; hanging precariously from a branch, a pygmy woodpecker examined its bark with all the focus of a one track mind. The brown and white bird picked its way through leaves before hopping from branch to trunk; once there, it tapped around curiously before nailing its beak into the wood so aggressively that splinters and dust went flying. It was almost enough to make Saitou smile, the image reminding him so much of an aggitated Sanosuke obliterating that cell door in a cloud of debris, but he frowned instead, stifling the fondness welling up at the memory as he reminded himself of his duty. <i>He would be a distraction. Nothing would get done.</i></p><p>He needed to focus; there was still the question of the Rengoku's origin and the potential of more black ships falling into the wrong hands. Saitou returned to his desk, pulling from the top of the stacked reports as he exhaled another cloud into the room. They had been fortunate at Osaka port; had the ahou and his questionably obtained explosives not been present, the likelihood of taking down that floating hunk of steel would have been slim. Certainly he would have been capable of taking out the lesser thugs on that ship with the Battousai at his side, but with Shishio, and the little tenken Seta on-board, they would have eventually been met with some difficulty. And once that gatling gun had been pulled into the mix, things would have gotten dicey.</p><p>That gatling gun... Saitou's frown deepened at the thought. Had Sanosuke not gotten himself lost on his way to Kyoto, had he not learned his little two-layer technique, he would have been lost to the waters of Osaka after falling victim to Shishio's hidden weapon. Saitou wasn't sure if it was dumb luck or the heavens smiling upon him, but that idiot was more capable than Saitou wanted to give him credit. </p><p>Fingertips braced against his temple, Saitou hunched over the desk and attempted to read the inked markings that his eyes had scanned once without really seeing. Saitou's concerns about Sanosuke being a liability to Himura were not unfounded, but he may have been projecting. The fight with the monk had indeed brought things to light that Saitou had given little thought at the time; </p><p><i>"Monk Anji! Hold on a second! I can't believe this! Didn't Lord Shishio tell you to kill Sagara!"</i> </p><p>Saitou had been engaged at Yumi's words though they should not have affected him to such an extent. What should he care if the idiot survived the ordeal as long as his goal was achieved? He had lost many men in combat over the years, it was a known risk that was accepted in the lifestyle he had chosen. </p><p><i>"Do not interrupt me! I'm free to decide whether he lives or dies."</i> </p><p>The monk really was an imposing man, brimming with fury as his mass overshadowed the kenkaya's slender form. That ashen gaze turned on them as Anji addressed the woman, but Saitou had been unable to tear his eyes from Sanosuke; how his arm braced against his struck abdomen, the sarashi there torn, and the red sheen of his mouth as he spat blood on the floor. </p><p><i>"So what you're saying is that keeping me alive or killing me is up to you? Not unlike the God of Fire, free to choose who lives and who dies? You think you're hot stuff as a god, don't you? But you're only free to choose who lives and dies because Shishio gave you the power to do that. That must mean that you believe Shishio's some kind of ultimate Buddha or something."</i> </p><p>Sanosuke had maintained his composure in a way Saitou had not thought capable after witnessing firsthand how explosive he could become. Indeed his words had been taunting, but he spoke them with calm anger. </p><p><i>"Lord Shishio didn't give me that right, I agreed to join the Juppongatana solely for the purpose of destroying the Meiji government. I'm merely lending my powers to them to further that goal. If for some reason the new world that Lord Shishio creates does not match my idea of salvation, then I will turn against him. And destroy once again."</i> </p><p>Saitou had noted then that if he continued down that path, the monk would need to be eliminated before he could become a threat to Japan on his own, but with Himura's influence it was unlikely that Sanosuke himself would deliberately kill the man. A shame, really; the roosterhead's potential would be undoubtedly stifled by the little rurouni's silly ideals.</p><p><i>"So then what you're trying to tell me is that you intend to keep on destroying forever? You don't get it, do you? You don't get it at all. I hate the Meiji government too, and I'll never forgive them for what they've done. And every now and then I feel like I want to destroy it, just like you do. But you know, even in the Meiji era there are people who are living decent lives and there are people who believe in the future, people who are willing to fight for those folks just living their lives. If you want to take out your aggressions on the world, then do it on your own time, Anji. But as long as there are still people with hope, I won't let them be affected by your warped ideas of right and wrong. I won't lose to you! Do you hear me?!"</i> </p><p>That was the moment Saitou begrudgingly admitted to himself that Sagara Sanosuke was far more than the absolute numbskull he appeared at surface level. None of his research into the former fight merchant had shed light onto the motivations and beliefs held by the nineteen year old; he had simply appeared to be an angry, misguided, and foolish youth with a rough past, no purpose, and an all-encompassing hatred towards the Meiji government for what they had done to his captain.</p><p>Himura had shown no signs of concern towards the outmatched fledgling, even as Saitou questioned him and fists began to fly; hits connected with little visible effect against the larger man and it seemed as though Sanosuke was throwing his all into it, wearing himself down instead of his opponent. Their pesky host cut in again with frustration at the lack of decisive strikes, clearly she was incapable of reading the fight; it was obvious to Saitou who was winning as Anji showed little change in his demeanor while everything about Sanosuke had begun to scream 'exhaustion'. That idiot needed to learn how to pace himself or he would be his own undoing. </p><p>
  <i>"That's enough, satisfied now? It's a shame I have to kill someone who was able to master the basics of the Futae no Kiwami in only one week. But I've already given you the chance to escape this destiny."</i>
</p><p>Saitou agreed that it would be a shame. Sanosuke had shown dedication and growth in learning a complex skill in such a limited amount of time, seeing that cut short before Sanosuke could exceed the basics would be a disappointment. Saitou had not been very satisfied with the thought of that potential outcome and he'd spoken his concern though he told himself it was for <i>Himura's</i> sake, </p><p><i>"This is the final showdown, now might be the best time for us to step in."</i> </p><p>It would have taken him no time to reach ground level with his sword drawn. Saitou could have had that fight finished in a matter of seconds, sparing the novice further injury, but Himura's softly spoken words stopped him more effectively than anything else could have in that moment. </p><p>
  <i>"You certainly worry a lot about Sano, don't you?"</i>
</p><p>The realization made him freeze. Saitou felt then as though their roles had been reversed; Himura was the one who kept the ahou as his right-hand in battle, the one with an actual reason for care and concern, yet he appeared calm, unphased by the progression of the fight as Saitou's own anxiety crept under his skin until it made his sword hand itch. It was Himura that had fought alongside Sanosuke in the past and if he, who had insight into the man's resilience and character that no research nor report on paper could provide, was unafraid of the roosterhead's fate, why was Saitou so shaken? </p><p>
  <i>"My only concern is that his death may cause your morale to suffer."</i>
</p><p>Yes. He had certainly been projecting, Saitou could admit that now. When Anji landed that death blow to the center of Sanosuke's chest, intent on shattering his ribcage and stopping his heart, it was Saitou's own morale that had wavered until Sanosuke, fast learner that he was proving himself to be, defended against the attack and struck Anji down. </p><p>With a slight shake of his head, Saitou attempted to clear his thoughts and snubbed out his forgotten cigarette; it was one of many lately that had burned down to the nub until ash balanced precariously over an equally neglected report. Looking at the paper, he exhaled in renewed annoyance at himself, he had not read a single word.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dialogue from the English dubs of s2e20(the first half of the fight with Anji) and s2e34(Saitou and Chou's conversation).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been one month; four long weeks; twenty-something boring days since Sanosuke up and left, Tokyo-bound on a steam engine, and Chou was lonely. It had been a long time since the last time he felt true loneliness; long accustomed to being on his own–no room for relationships after all when you're stealing and killing since even your allies eventually turned on you–he had expected to just move on with his life when their whirlwind fling came to its end. Loneliness–yes, that had to be it; what else could he possibly be feeling? </p><p>Damn it. </p><p>He<i> missed</i> Sanosuke. </p><p>But why? </p><p>They had only fooled around for a few short weeks and before <i>that</i> they hadn't existed to each other outside of their one-time encounter in his jail cell. How they even came to be didn't make any sense to Chou, considering he had been the enemy once. Hell, he'd even attacked the roosterhead's best pal with intent to kill, so what were they doing being butt-buddies? But–Chou laughed, thinking about Sanosuke's butt–he had been pulled in like a moth to a flame; Sanosuke was easy to get along with and <i>hilarious</i> and, though Chou found humor in everything, he laughed the hardest when he was with the little punk... ugh. Thinking about it made his head hurt, so he tried not to think at all, but then the loneliness would creep in again and he'd be right back where he started. Fuck. </p><p>That was it: a fuck. He needed to get laid; something fast, and hard, and dirty. They had made no promises of fidelity to each other so why not? If he could just find someone, anyone, to make him forget how <i>good</i> Sanosuke had tasted... Or his eyes–fuck, Chou liked his eyes–so dark and deep....</p><p>
  <i>sigh
</i></p><p>
  <i>Damn it. </i>
</p><p>Chou was a man obsessed, one who desperately needed to stop thinking about Sanosuke's skin and how much he liked marking it up with his teeth; or the way tight muscles twitched in response to his touch; how kiss-bruised lips fell open to make the most pathetic, desperate noises; or the way those eyes rolled back when Chou pinned his willing body to the futon and pounded into–</p><p>"Sawagejo." </p><p>Chou jumped with a startled squeak, banging his knee against the underside of his desk and dropping the sword he'd been mindlessly cleaning. </p><p>"Where have you been?" Amber eyes bore through him as he checked his composure and reached for the uchiko ball that had fumbled from his grip, sending powder across the wooden surface. <i>Friggin' Saitou, man. Jus' sneakin' up all quiet outta no where like some sorta spooky specter. </i> </p><p>"Right here, boss. Workin', ya know, like I'm supposed ta be doin'." He broke eye contact when it became clear that Saitou wouldn't back down, choosing instead to watch the finely milled particles that fell as he tapped along the length of his blade. </p><p>"I don't recall telling you to daydream while playing with your sword." Chou's first response was a sardonic snort, much like the tone Saitou had employed. <i>If only ya knew what I was dreamin' 'bout, you'd be playin' with yer sword too.</i> </p><p>"A dirty blade's a bad look fer an officer, don'tcha think? 'n I'm finished goin' through the shit ya gave me,<i> again</i>. Nothin'. Zilch. Nada. I still think we're lookin' in all the wrong places. Trust me, Lord Shi–... <i>Shishio</i> wouldn't be sloppy enough ta leave a paper trail." Chou cleared his throat at the habitual honorific, exchanging the powdered silk ball for paper and wiping down the katana. </p><p>"I agree. But until we find the right places, or you remember something actually useful, we need to go over everything at our disposal. Make certain nothing has been overlooked." Smoke was blown in Chou's direction, though the haze died off before it could reach him. <i>Fuckin' humanoid chimney.</i></p><p>Chou chuckled. "Ya know, fer all yer complainin' 'bout Kawaji's naggin'," lifting the blade to inspect his work, he directed it towards that unsettling yellow gaze, squinting up the thin steel at the other man, "yer startin' ta sound jus' like 'im." </p><p>"And you're starting to sound as though you need something constructive to do." Saitou crushed the remainder of his cigarette in the center of Chou's workspace, avoiding his tools but burning a scar into the wood and leaving a charred mess. "I believe there are reports in the file room that require organization. Alphabetical order, of course." </p><p>Chou's playful squint turned baleful before fizzling out at the returned heat; that glare was far scarier coming from his superior's freaky, lupine eyes. </p><p>"Yeah, yeah. 'm on it." Saitou didn't stick around long enough for the following huffed insult, "creepy-eyed, cricket-faced bastard." </p><p>"At least I do not look like cleaning equipment." </p><p><i>Shit. Of course he has friggin' superhuman hearing.</i> </p><p>—</p><p>Chou spent the first quarter of an hour applying himself to his assigned task, going through the As and the Bs and the–forget it. Everything <i>was</i> organized; the few files out of place had only recently been created, or pulled for reference, and it took no time to find their rightful homes. He had no desire to return to his desk though, preferring instead to avoid everyone until he was able to head out for the day, so if it was busy work he was meant to do, he could find it. File Storage was the filthiest room in the building; the table tops were mostly clean but there were enough untouched surfaces where dust had settled to give him <i>something</i> to do, so he left only long enough to retrieve a clean cloth and got to work. </p><p>It did not take long for that too to become boring and he found entertainment in doodling faces (and naughty words) into the white layer on the cabinets until he reached one labeled 'S'. He paused, staring curiously first at the embossed letter and then the nearby protruding metal knobs. Chou's favorite things started with the letter S; swords... sake... sex. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself, opening the top drawer to look for a certain roosterhead's criminal report, a roosterhead who's name also happened to start with the letter <b>S</b>. And <i><b>s</b>ake</i> led to<i> <b>s</b>ex </i>with <i><b>S</b>anosuke</i>, which was pretty much Sanosuke <b><i>s</i></b><i>itting</i> on his<i><b> s</b>word</i>, which<i> <b>s</b>atisfied</i> Chou <i><b>s</b>plendidly</i>. Yes, S words were his favorite and nothing could change it, not even– </p><p>"<b>S</b>nooping, <b>S</b>awagejo?" Friggin' <b>S</b>aitou <b>s</b>neaking up on him again. <b>S</b>hit. </p><p>"Don'tcha know how to make some noise when yer sneakin' around? Gonna give me a heart attack one of these days." Chou dropped the folder he had partially withdrawn and shut the drawer, narrowly avoiding a slammed finger in his haste. </p><p>"Defeats the point of sneaking if I'm making noise." Saitou stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame with an ever-present cigarette lazily cradled between his lips. "What are you doing?" </p><p>"Alphabetizing?" Chou shrugged, crossing his arms. </p><p>"I gave you this task knowing there was little to do, to see how much time you would undoubtedly waste. Of course, you did not disappoint."</p><p>"Well then, congrats, ya caught me." He snatched up the cloth he'd abandoned on a nearby shelf, wiping away the narrow-eyed caricature he had fingered into the filth. </p><p>Saitou was just <i>staring</i> at him, eyes flickering only momentarily to the cabinet Chou had been rooting through before locking on Chou again. "You aren't going to find much in there." </p><p>"The hell're you talkin' about?" There were no rules barring Chou from looking through any of the records in that room, but Saitou made him feel like a child caught with his hand in the sweets jar. </p><p>"Sagara." Saitou finally showed some emotion, annoyance, as he enunciated the name. "He was only arrested once in Kyoto within the last few years. Any earlier arrest records are from so long ago they were either stored elsewhere or destroyed." </p><p>"What makes you think I'm lookin' into him?" Was Chou really being that obvious? </p><p>"Intuition," <i>Creepy bastard with his sixth sense.</i> "and you've been wandering around like an abandoned mutt since that idiot left."  Saitou turned on his heel, voice fading as he walked away, "well?" </p><p>Chou hesitated, lacking the ability to mind read that his superior seemed to possess, before hurrying to catch up. He entered Saitou's office and, finding the other man already seated at his desk, shut the door behind him. Chou took the seat opposite and was immediately drawn to the single folder, thick with paper, centered on the wood between them. Saitou pushed it towards him as Chou leaned over the desk; eyeing the black kanji across the top of the first turned page, he thanked his limited education and ability to read as he had no desire to be ridiculed while Saitou dictated it to him. <i>Why the hell does he have this?</i></p><p>"In order to determine Himura's usefulness for the Shishio incident, I needed a full account of any potential weaknesses–such as those closest to him; such as the ahou." <i>I knew that fuckin' creep could read minds.</i></p><p>Chou's brow lifted as he reached an obscure nugget of information; Sagara Sanosuke. Brown eyes. Brown hair. 179cm. <i>Approximately 70kg? How the hell does he know that?!</i></p><p>"How do I know his weight?" Without looking up, Chou knew Saitou was smirking, he could hear it in his voice. "It's an estimation, based on every time I've thrown him." </p><p>"Huh." Saitou was probably right; it seemed plausible from his own estimation if he really thought about it. How many times had <i>he</i> thrown Sanosuke around? Chou couldn't stop a snicker as a dirty memory flashed through his head. </p><p>"Of course..." Saitou pointed at the desk's assortment of writing utensils, "if my estimation is off and you have insight..." </p><p>"N-nah, boss!" Chou coughed, sputtering almost violently as his face surely turned red. He felt like he'd been caught <i>again</i>. "Yer prob'ly right." </p><p>He continued reading. Sagara wasn't his actual name as it turned out. There was an entry about a Sagara Sozo, a false army, and the massacre that ended them the decade prior. Apparently Sanosuke had joined the Sekihotai at nine years old, some kind of unofficial cadet, and took his captain's name after his beheading. Nine. Chou's brain started putting the pieces together; nine years old ten years ago made Sanosuke– </p><p>"He's <i>nineteen</i>?!" Chou could feel both eyes snap open so wide it was a wonder they hadn't rolled right out of their sockets. At a soft chuckle he looked up. Was that <i>almost</i> a smile on Saitou's face? </p><p>"Shit." Chou grumbled under his breath, adding louder, "how the hell was I supposed ta know he's just a kid?!" </p><p>"It never occurred to you to ask?"</p><p>Shrugging once, twice, he defended himself, "he drinks like a man!" </p><p>"He acts like a child." Saitou was just staring again, this time at the curling ribbons of smoke rising from his cigarette; any traces of that developing smile absent from his lips. </p><p>"<i>I</i> act like a child." </p><p>"Which must be why you two get along so well." That wasn't as insulting a response as Chou had expected and the lack of argumentative distraction had him thinking further into what he had just read.</p><p>"Shit. The army? At nine?" Chou thought of himself at nine years old, it felt as if that time were so long ago–which was understandable considering he was pretty sure he was almost thirty-one now... if he remembered correctly. Nine; he was playing with mud and bullying the other village kids at nine. His family had still been around and, though they hadn't earned the title of 'greatest family ever', he had tolerated them enough to stay until their untimely demise in his early teenage years. Chou skimmed the first few pages, searching for an answer to his next question, "didn't he have family? They didn't try to stop him?" </p><p>"There was little mentioned of him in Sagara Sozo's recovered journals, probably to protect him, and nothing of family." Something foreign crossed Saitou's expression. "He did not exist on paper before that and has no known ties to any one place outside of his current residence in Tokyo." </p><p>"Shit." Chou read through the earlier entries again, discovering a lack of information in that ten year gap. There were arrests of course–from all over Japan and most notably for thieving and fighting–but nothing of any real interest until the section labeled 'fight-merchant'. "Kid's a mystery." </p><p>"The only mystery is how he has managed to survive this long with such an empty skull," Saitou didn't hide the tug at the corner of his mouth, "whatever brains he did have must have finally deteriorated if he's taken with the likes of you." </p><p>Chou's glare wasn't returned as he met Saitou's increasingly smug eyes and it died off quickly–it always did–as he realized the humor of their bizarre situation and snickered again, figuring it couldn't hurt to point out what he was finding so entertaining.</p><p>"Ya know, yer real hard ta read," Chou paused, continuing when Saitou's brow raised questioningly, "ya act all cold 'n shit, but then ya bring me in here ta <i>banter</i> about the guy. Ya hate me or what, 'cause I'm startin' ta think ya might like me after all?" </p><p>"I hate incompetence and foolishness." </p><p>"Me." Chou's lips curled at his self-deprecation. </p><p>"Evil." </p><p>"Also me." Chou's grin was wide now, full of teeth.  </p><p>"Ugly hair." It was said on an aimed exhale, forcing Chou to bat at the offending billow of smoke coming for him, and Saitou continued before any scathing words could leap headlong from the sword-hunter's tongue.</p><p>"You may behave incompetently or foolishly on occasion, but it is not the entirety of your character," Saitou inhaled once more before considerately exhaling towards the ceiling and discarding his vice, "no matter how lazy or stupid you pretend to be." </p><p>Chou's right eye hardened, left having fallen into its customary squint; of course cricket-face only gave backhanded compliments. "Still evil." </p><p>"There is a vast difference between <i>doing</i> evil and <i>being</i> evil." The man stared pensively into the lingering gray death throes of his cigarette. </p><p>Chou was lost on how to reply to such a serious statement. He considered the differences, agreeing to an extent, but ultimately deciding that Saitou just didn't know the totality of his wicked ways. After a few dragging moments of silence, he found he still had no response, but the questions he'd held back from before–when they'd spoken in that same office the day Sanosuke left Kyoto–resurfaced.</p><p>"So what's yer deal with Sano?" He was going to get himself stabbed. </p><p>"Hm?" Saitou's face was no longer thoughtful, emotions becoming indiscernible once again. </p><p>"Sanosuke. Roosterhead. What's yer deal with him?" Chou closed the folder, lifting it for emphasis, "why'd ya have his file already on yer desk?" </p><p>"Once again, intuition." Saitou stiffened as he mechanically completed the act of retrieving and lighting another cigarette. </p><p>"What, ya really just figured I'd wanna see it? Have it waitin' fer me?" Chou didn't keep the suspicion from his face as he didn't feel the need to hide behind a mask of indifference. "Not buyin' it, boss man. How 'bout ya cut the crap and tell me the real reason ya have his file so conveniently sittin' out?" </p><p>He wasn't sure if Saitou was staring <i>at</i> him or <i>through</i> him this time, but either answer left him unsettled as they narrowed. He expected to be kicked out, starting to feel as though he had finally overstepped and Saitou had had enough of his company, but he was caught off-guard by an unexpected admission, </p><p>"Did you believe yourself to be the only one with any interest in the ahou?" </p><p>So it wasn't all one-sided. What he'd seen in Sanosuke that drunken night may have been unknown or unacknowledged, subconscious emotions breaking through, but whatever it was, it was not unrequited–it was <i>unresolved</i>. Those two were a couple of absolute bone-heads and now Chou felt as though he was getting stuck in the middle of something he wasn't entirely prepared to deal with. He could be extremely possessive and jealous when it came to things he wanted and if this man planned on encroaching on his previously established territory,  he would need to be ready for war. </p><p>"Well, ta be honest," Chou considered his words. Hoping he chose wisely enough to avoid Saitou's ire while still prying a little further, he continued, "I don't really think I coulda guessed. I saw ya together what, once? I don't know either of ya well enough ta know exactly what's goin' on between ya, but I do know tension when I see it. Care ta elaborate?" </p><p>"Hn." Really? Nothing? That infuriatingly reserved bastard, keeping secrets to himself. Fuck Saitou's ire. Chou needed answers. Was Saitou going to become a problem? Would he eventually reveal himself to Sanosuke and try to steal him away, right out from under Chou? That crafty bastard would probably succeed too. </p><p>"Maybe I don't wanna know what kinda tension ya have goin' on between ya, but I don't take too kindly ta sharin', if'n ya catch my drift." Chou didn't back down as Saitou's eyes met his. He was right, there was a challenge there and Mibu's Wolf made no attempt to conceal it. Chou wished his own gaze had been a little more intimidating, knowing that the fire in his dull brown eyes paled in comparison to the gold turned on him. Despite that, he held firm until Saitou broke the uncomfortable silence.</p><p>"It will not be sharing if he is no longer entertained by your presence." </p><p>Chou swallowed, he knew a threat when he heard it but he also knew that up and leaving now would be equivalent to retreating and he refused to back down. </p><p>"Kinda weird, don'tcha think? Yer old ass goin' after a <i>child</i>?" </p><p>"Calm yourself, Sawagejo. I have no intentions of taking him from you." Another unexpected answer. He had been prepared for resistance, maybe a rebuttal on his own age gap with Sagara, but this... he hadn't foreseen this. "I'm believed deceased, remember?" </p><p><i>Fer now. But what happens when you miraculously return?</i> Chou was not entirely satisfied, but he let his mind catch up before his tongue ran away with him. He needed to regroup; just earlier he had been deciding to forget Sanosuke in whatever other warm hole he could find and now he was getting angry at the potential threat Saitou posed. Sanosuke wasn't even his to lay claim to, they could both do what and who they wanted and there was little to stop that fact with the distance between them–and at least if Saitou was here in Kyoto, with him, he wouldn't have to worry about the other swordsman making a move. </p><p>Saitou had known Sanosuke for, well, Chou didn't really know for how long... but he hadn't made any advances on the teenager–<i>shit, he's a friggin' teenager</i>–maybe he wouldn't at all. But how long would that last, especially if their case took them closer to Tokyo? Chou's prodding renewed as his curiosity won out, "sucks fer ya, huh? 'm sure ya got all kinds of pent up shit from keepin' it all ta yerself." </p><p>"I suppose, but relationships are an inconvenience and I can only imagine the amount of attention that idiot requires." </p><p>A bark of laughter ripped from Chou; so they were back to banter, huh? He'd take it, appreciating the decreasing tension as Saitou's miniscule smirk returned. </p><p>"Come on." Saitou stood, tugging to correct the fit of his gloves and retrieving his sword. </p><p>"Where we goin'?" Chou still held the file, reluctant to return it to his boss when he had barely grazed the very surface of its contents.</p><p>"Dinner." Indifference returned to his voice and he did not look at Chou as he turned down the lamps and approached the door. How could one man be so confusing?</p><p>"Huh?"</p><p>"It has been a long day and I am hungry. Do brooms not need to eat?" Saitou must have read his mind again as he added, "bring it. You may review it as long as it is returned in one piece."</p><p>— </p><p>The walk to the nearest open-air soba stall had been short, but its silence had given Chou time to mostly chase the green-eyed monster from his head. The proximity of his superior turned his thoughts towards Saitou and he considered what he knew of Mibu's Wolf and what had been shown of his character during their employment together. Saitou, until now, seemingly had a one-track mind of Aku Soku Zan and not much else, but he was also cunning–capable of getting what he wanted by any means necessary if it benefited his goals; making the other man more similar to Chou than he formerly believed–and because of that, Chou wasn't entirely trusting. He would not let his guard down when it came to Saitou.</p><p>Damn it. He desperately needed to get laid. If he could find someone–anyone–to break the spell that Sanosuke apparently had on him, perhaps he wouldn't care so much. He eyed the other man as they approached the row of storefronts, finding he was not so offended by Saitou's appearance, or his sharp eyes when they weren't turned on him in agitation, and decided that if he were to lose Sanosuke to anyone, he'd prefer it to be Saitou.</p><p>...Nah... </p><p>Fuck that. He wasn't sharing with, or surrendering to, anyone.</p><p>Especially not Saitou. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Uchiko powder and ball: a fine abrasive powder made from a polishing stone, used to clean a sword's blade, often included in sword care kits. Applied with a silk ball on a stick. There's some disagreements about the use of it, but Chou uses something similar in the manga (and shoves it up his nose lol); ch252.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He knew he was dreaming.</p><p>Maybe it was how the walls seemed to breathe that gave it away... or the sluggishness of movements he couldn't fully control...or Chou's face buried between his naked legs when he knew that the broomhead was still in Kyoto... 

</p><p>Chou...?</p><p>What was he doing here? </p><p>
  <i>Fuck... </i>
</p><p>Despite the awareness of it being a dream, and the disorientation that accompanied it, it felt amazing... he felt amazing... it made him want... he wanted–</p><p>"<i>Chou...</i>" A needy gasp, his voice too quiet– it always was in his dreams.</p><p>"<i>Fuck–</i> Chou!" He couldn't get the words out as any more than desperate whimpers, no matter how he tried, but perhaps it was appropriate, considering their activity.... Chou didn't look up, eyes shut as he bobbed his head and curled his probing fingers, pushing him closer and closer... </p><p>Moaning breathlessly, he reached for blond hair, wanting to tangle his fingers in it and pull Chou closer. He wanted to kiss him; wanted to be touched everywhere; wanted to feel him <i>deeper</i>... fuck. He felt so good, it felt so good, but he wanted... he wanted...</p><p>Movement to his right had him turning his head, confused. Chou didn't notice, didn't say a word, just continuing on as if nothing else mattered. He squinted, blinking against the soft fog that seemed to hang over his vision... he saw nothing. Just the wall, rippling like hot air above roof shingles...</p><p>
  <i>"Ahou."</i>
</p><p>He couldn't whip his head around fast enough.</p><p>Chou's mouth hugged him tighter, drawing his attention and a broken moan, one that he choked on as gold eyes stared back at him; shorter, black hair entangling his fingers– Chou was gone.</p><p>No... Chou was behind him; his arms wrapped around his waist; legs alongside his own, trapping him. He didn't need to see his face, he knew it was Chou...</p><p>Gold watched him though he could no longer hold their gaze through the intensity of one long, slow pull. Eyes rolling, shutting, his head fell against Chou's shoulder... he couldn't stop the pathetic little noises building in his throat... nothing had ever felt so good...</p><p>Chou nuzzled into his neck and he exposed it further, submitting, letting those teeth mark him with hard bites. One of the hands on his waist slid higher– fingers raking over his ribs, pinching at his nipples, digging into that hideous gatotsu scar– until it wrapped around his throat, pulling his head to the side; his eyes shot open, finding gold again. He gasped as he was swallowed to the hilt, whining at the strengthening grip on his neck. Their faces were so close... he wanted... he wanted to...</p><p>The fingers at his neck tightened painfully and his mouth fell open, struggling for shallow breaths. He felt like he was floating– white buzzing at the edge of his vision– and those lips neared; he wanted to feel them... they neared; gold eyes so sharp, they cut right through him... they neared... and opened... releasing an endless plume of thick smoke that filled his mouth, gagging him. </p><p>Acrid haze burned his eyes and he wanted to rub them as he blinked, again and again, but his arms would not obey. There was so much smoke... it filled the room... tears stung under his lids... he choked... everything dissolved...</p><p>Saitou. Chou. The walls. </p><p>Everything was gone and all that remained was smoke... it was suffocating....</p><p>There was so much smoke.... </p><p>And the sudden eruption of gunfire from every angle... </p><p>Orders were being yelled, barely louder than the echoed screams of dying men, but everything sounded muffled, like he'd shoved cotton in his ears. He knew this place... he knew those voices...</p><p>His mouth opened but words wouldn't come out. He wanted to call out for his captain, but his tongue felt fat, heavy, fuzzy; like when he'd smoked that stuff that made him feel weird...</p><p>A hand on his shoulder startled him and he spun, flinching at the cracking pop of a nearby rifle. He could smell blood, see it seeping through his captain's jacket, moonlight illuminating the wet fabric.</p><p>"Run, Sanosuke!"</p><p>And he did.</p><p>He ran... </p><p>and ran...</p><p>and ran... as fast as his little legs could take him. </p><p>But it felt like he was running through sand... or thick snow... his legs were numb...</p><p>He turned his head to see that Captain Sagara wasn't far behind, hanging onto the shoulders of two more soldiers... they didn't have faces but he knew their voices as they pushed Captain Sagara towards him, turning on their pursuers... sacrificing themselves to help him escape. </p><p>Captain Sagara's weight fell heavy on his back, heavier than he remembered, and he struggled to drag him away as his hero's blood seeped into his clothes, staining his skin as the sounds of those two men dying faded away. </p><p>Wasn't there a cliff nearby? He remembered a cliff and a river... they could jump... they could still...</p><p>He kept running, feeling taller and suddenly faster, stronger... no... the body in his arms was becoming lighter... </p><p>Red hair an even darker shade, matted with blood; the little rurouni unconscious in his arms....</p><p>His legs stopped obeying and he froze as everything around him brightened to horrifying shades of orange and red. The world was on fire, burning away the trees and the night sky. Captain Sagara was gone and all that remained was fire and smoke and that awful rumbling coming from the lower levels of Shishio's fortress. </p><p>He was on that bridge...or the remainder of it... and it shook until he stumbled, dropping Kenshin and cursing himself, his broken hands.</p><p>Reaching for his friend, he panicked, finding only air. Kenshin was gone... did Aoshi have him? They'd been together on that bridge, escaping... maybe Aoshi had taken him, he had a map... right? Maybe they'd escaped through that door... but when he turned, he found no door, no opening, just a solid slab of rock, trapping him inside with the inferno... </p><p>He could feel his heart racing as his breaths became shallow. The air was too thick with smoke, he needed to get out. Fuck. Where had Kenshin gone? Where was Aoshi? Where was...</p><p>
  <i>Saitou?!</i>
</p><p>He wanted to scream but his mouth wouldn't open, did he even have one? It felt like it had sealed shut though he desperately tried to force the skin of his lips to tear apart.</p><p>Terrifyingly calm as flames climbed higher, threatening to engulf them both, Saitou stood on the other end of that collapsed bridge... smoking... smirking...</p><p>He tried screaming again, the noise high and garbled in his throat, like he was screaming underwater. He grabbed onto the small extension of wall that had once been a door frame, steadying himself as everything quaked. He couldn't calm himself, hyperventilating through his nose as his heart thundered in his ears.</p><p>Saitou was watching him.</p><p>He wanted to cry... no... he wouldn't show weakness... Saitou wasn't crying. He was smirking, right in the face of death. He needed to be stronger, needed to show Saitou, needed to... he needed to....</p><p>He was so <i>fucking scared</i>.</p><p>Something exploded and the world shook again, his side of the bridge crumbling further, stone dropping into the abyss glowing furiously red below. Flattening against the door-turned-stone, he readied himself... he had to jump... he had to... had to try before he too fell into the smoldering pit...</p><p>Looking across the gap at the sketchy stone ledge, guessing the distance, he steeled himself for what was next but froze as a second pair of boots joined Saitou's. Looking up, he found a face that didn't belong...</p><p>Chou.... <i>Chou?!</i> He wasn't supposed to be there. </p><p>Smoke filled his nose, burning his eyes and choking him until he gagged, unable to cough. He wanted to shield his face but could hardly raise his arms, they too felt numb as if he'd fallen asleep on them both...</p><p>He needed to get to them... he needed... both men just stood there, making no attempts to save themselves... looking at him... looking at him as if they were waiting for him...</p><p>Chou smirked too. Not as cool and collected as Saitou, more wicked, vicious. Why was he here? He needed to....</p><p>He took two short, strong steps, pushing off the suddenly collapsing ledge and praying to anything or anyone listening. Praying he could make it across, praying he hadn't wasted too much time. He couldn't save Captain Sagara, he couldn't save Kenshin– he barely managed to catch onto the bridge's very edge with his fingers... he held on for dear life, trying to pull himself up... he couldn't... he didn't have the strength... his arms were still numb... he couldn't save himself...</p><p>His mouth opened with an awful sound, skin ripping apart as he screamed their names desperately, fingers slipping. They stared at him, unmoving, still smirking. He managed one more pitiful word–<i>"please..."</i>–before the bridge gave way.</p><p>It felt like forever as he picked up speed, plummeting head first through rushing air, and he anticipated hitting burning rubble, not frigid liquid. A startled inhale sucked riverwater and pebbles into his mouth, filling his lungs. It was hot and tasted awful; he couldn't breathe... he couldn't–</p><p>Sanosuke sputtered awake, coughing everywhere. Disoriented, he sat up, spitting tofu cubes and the taste of miso soup from his mouth.</p><p>"Who the fuck tried to poison me?!"</p><p>Something connected with the back of his head and he shrank away, rubbing at the rising bump.</p><p>"Sanosuke!!" Jou-chan towered over him with one hand raised, silhouetted by the sun. Megumi was slinking away behind her and she whirled around. "Miss Megumi!!"</p><p>Kenshin was staring at them though his mind was elsewhere, his face clearly displaying the turmoil taking place within–or at least it was clear to Sanosuke, who'd become familiar with similar looks over the short period he'd fought alongside the older man. It was a struggle both expected and understandable, considering the recently told story of his past... of Tomoe.</p><p>The past– Sanosuke had to harden his gaze to force back tears before they could even<i> think</i> of burning at his eyes– that nightmare had pulled memories from two of the worst days of his life. He didn't know why Chou was there, but his presence made him feel betrayal on top of the hollowed-out heartache that usually lingered after similar dreams. Chou hadn't even tried to pull him up... he just stood there at Saitou's side, staring at him as he fought for grip. <i>Watching him fall</i>– like he wasn't worth saving... like he wasn't worth anything... </p><p>And maybe he had never been worth saving to Saitou–why would he be? Anything he felt towards the man had been one-sided, a crush that had formed because his stupid heart couldn't help but break itself. They had never even had a real conversation–too often jumping straight to insults–much less a deeper one about <i>feelings</i> or what-fucking-ever; and even if Sanosuke<i> had </i>tried to broach the subject, he's pretty sure Saitou would have laughed him right out the door for being naive or stupid; calling him childish and treating him like an idiot. He hadn't been worth anything to Saitou before his death– always fucking things up and getting in the way– but Chou... he thought he was worth more to Chou. Not like love–they'd never been <i>that</i> serious–but he'd befriended Chou, he'd<i> fucked</i> Chou; he thought there was something at least a little more important there... but Chou hadn't helped him. He'd just stood there, smirking with those wicked, wicked eyes.</p><p>He knew he was being fucking stupid for getting angry at Chou because of shit his own mind was making up. It was just a dream! Chou was in Kyoto, doing secret agent cop shit, and he hadn't even been there when Saitou died! Sanosuke's own brain put him there– inserting him into a memory where he didn't belong– so why was he getting so mad at the Chou in his dreams for just standing there, watching him?</p><p>If Kenshin had been seeing the present day just then, he may have seen a similar struggle just under the surface of Sanosuke's forced smile, but he didn't seem to notice anything until Kaoru's screaming about ungrateful freeloaders snapped them both out of their own heads.</p><p>"Yeah yeah, lunch, soup, whatever. I'm coming." He grumbled, standing, nodding at Kenshin in a way that he hoped assured him that <i>'you're good, buddy, we're all good'</i>, but it was an assurance he didn't believe himself. That dream was too haunting to shake, but he needed to put it as far from his mind as possible, he couldn't afford the distraction. They had nine days until Enishi's jinchuu started and he needed to focus, he needed to figure out a plan B since he already fucked his right hand up again. If only he still had the zanbatou...</p><p>Now <i>that</i> was an idea. Kenshin had cut it in half so cleanly, it could probably be reattached, but he didn't even know where to begin with an idea like that. He had nine days though, he'd have to think of something, and thinking of anything other than stupid dreams would be a welcome distraction.</p><p>Kaoru was screaming their names again. Kenshin offered him a small smile–just as forced as Sanosuke's own–as they joined the women, and Yahiko, in the house.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The soup thing, Ch181</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chou was ready to explode. He never did find anyone to relieve his pent up frustration that night–Saitou's mere presence cock-blocking him throughout dinner as he tried to seduce every pretty little thing that caught his eye–and their meal had eventually been interrupted by one of the many officers who's names he'd never cared enough to learn. They had a lead; one that sent him first to Yokohama and then to Tokyo, though Chou tried to argue–  </p><p><i>"How 'bout</i> you<i> investigate the mansion 'n </i>I'll<i> meet ya in Tokyo?"</i> </p><p>
  <i>"</i>You<i> wanted to be a spy, Chou. Go be a spy."</i>
</p><p>–not wanting to give Saitou a head start as he didn't trust the man to keep his paws to himself–mostly because he knew if<i> he'd</i> gone to Tokyo first, he would've been on Sanosuke like a fly on shit and gotten absolutely nothing done–but finally, <i>finally</i>, he was in Tokyo.</p><p>After three unsuccessful days of hunting for Saitou– shaking down every soba restaurant and stall he could find, as he'd been instructed to do upon arrival–he was pissed off and over it, ready to give up. If cricket-man was gonna keep hiding from him, <i>fine</i>, he could think of better things to do; like finding a place to rent for the next few weeks–as he really just wanted somewhere safe to store his swords because <i>stupid laws</i> prevented him from flaunting his collection–or ducking an unexpected punch from a certain spiky-haired brat, who's face was split wide with the biggest shit-eating grin Chou had ever seen.  </p><p>"What the fuck is yer deal, roosterhead?!" Honed reflexes had him reaching for one of the swords that should've been on his back, momentarily forgetting said bullshit laws and the fact that his only sword was a cloth-bound katana that was dropped as he dodged. </p><p>"Broomhead!" Sanosuke swung again, but instead of the anticipated impact of a fist in his ribs, Chou was yanked into a crushing hug that left him just as winded. "I didn't know you were coming to Tokyo!"</p><p>"You know this guy?" One of the men who had been walking with Sanosuke–a skinny, little, baby-faced brunet–looked annoyed, but relatively harmless; Chou gave him a wicked smile over Sanosuke's shoulder as he squeezed back.</p><p>"Yeah, man, from that shit in Kyoto. It's all good–promise! I'll catch up with you guys later." Sanosuke released him and turned to wave his groupies away. They shrugged but left; the brunet throwing them a fleeting look–a glare for Chou, a smile for Sanosuke–before following the others.</p><p>"Pals of yers?" Chou bent to retrieve his fallen weapon, brushing dirt from its wrappings. The noise of confirmation Sanosuke made sounded absent as he straightened, catching Sanosuke staring as he turned. </p><p>"Been hanging out with them all morning." Sanosuke said with an embarrassed laugh, sidling up to Chou on the side of the road as a wagon passed where they had been standing. </p><p>"Like whatcha see, ya lil' perv?"</p><p>"<i>Shut up</i>." </p><p>Gods, that stupid laugh; Chou had missed it.</p><p>Without an audience, Chou was finally able to just appreciate Sanosuke, all of him, even though he was pretty banged up–right hand wrapped in thick bandages; a large yellowing bruise on the right side of his face, which looked suspiciously like the treaded sole of a boot–but what interested him the most was Sanosuke's flushed skin and unsteady footing. "Yer drunk."</p><p>"Am I that obvious?"  </p><p>"Yer wobblin' like a top, partner. Y'always get this drunk so early in the day?"</p><p>"I'm not wobblin'! And it's not <i>that</i> early... but yeah man, I got–" Sano frowned, appearing confused as he counted on his fingers, "four days? ...I got four more days before I gotta be sober and damn it, I'm gonna enjoy them."</p><p>"Ahhh, wild plans comin' up?"</p><p>"Some bullshit's going on, but you know what, that ain't important right now. What's important is what you're doing here!" If Sanosuke had a tail, the damn thing would've been wagging; his excitement was evident and all Chou wanted was to throw Sanosuke against the nearest wall and show him exactly how excited he was in return. Chou did his best to answer instead, tearing his eyes from scabbed lips before they stopped moving.</p><p>"Been workin' a case, tryna figure out where Lord Shishio got that Rengoku from. We caught wind of some shady shit comin' in from China, so<i> here I am</i>." The locals were no longer paying them any mind, now that it was clear there wasn't going to be a fight, and the temptation to shove his tongue down Sanosuke's throat grew–though Chou knew that <i>would</i> draw attention. </p><p>"Bandage-man's still causing trouble from the afterlife, eh?" Chou could feel the sun reflecting off of Sanosuke's clothes and skin. It made him think of that lake in Kyoto; it made him <i>want</i>. "The cops trust your ass not to run off?"</p><p>"They got me on a short leash, partner. Somebody watchin' at all times." Chou lied–though it was only a lie until he found Saitou... unless Saitou had already found him without announcement. How much trouble was he going to get himself into if Saitou found him shirking his duties to play grab-ass with the roosterhead?</p><p>"Shit, houki. I hope they're not watching you <i>all</i> the time." Sanosuke whispered as he leaned in closer, beaded sweat rolling from his jaw in fine lines before they were wiped away. Chou could smell the sake on his breath and it stirred up other memories, those of drunken kisses and wild nights.</p><p>"Why, tori? Worried they're gonna see ya naked?" Chou lowered his voice suggestively, not bothering to hide the fact that he was eyeing the mottled angles of Sanosuke's face.</p><p>"If I'm lucky." Despite being chapped and punch-split, Sanosuke's lips were inviting as hell and Chou nearly caved, audience be damned. He started closing the gap between them until Sanosuke's words registered, causing Chou to choke on a laugh which ruined the building tension. <i>Bet Saitou would love an eyeful of yer naked self, rooster-boy.</i></p><p>"That so, partner?" Sanosuke gave him a questioning look, but Chou was a seasoned veteran of quick-wit and redirection, it was easy enough to excuse the real reason for his amusement. "What happened ta that shy virgin I met in Kyoto, huh?"</p><p>"<i>Shy virgin</i>?" Sanosuke scoffed, "I dunno what shy virgin you're talking about," his lopsided smile returned, "but I'm drunk as hell and just happy to see you."</p><p>"Well then, wanna give me the Tokyo grand tour? Maybe after, we can see how happy ya really are?" Sanosuke likely knew of some soba joints he hadn't even heard of–which meant he could count their time together as working, technically–and then he could <i>finally get laid.</i> Two birds, one stone.</p><p>"I was gonna go gambling with those guys, but if you'd rather get a drink–" </p><p>"Hell yes!" Chou wanted Sanosuke all to himself; he didn't feel like sharing or socializing, especially since that little brunet from before seemed as much of a cock-block as Saitou. He added–"I'm too damn sober."–to justify his immediate answer as something other than greed for Sanosuke's attention.</p><p>— </p><p>Almost immediately, Chou had forgotten all about soba stands and Saitou–it was hard not to when he had a sauced-up pretty boy half in his lap all day. They were hanging onto each other as they left the final bar and thankfully that night was significantly cooler than those they'd shared in Kyoto. He didn't know where they were going–recognizing next to nothing from their daytime adventure–and frankly he didn't care, but their walk was disrupted as the sky split open; the sudden downpour forcing them to duck down a narrow alley to hide beneath an overhanging roof. </p><p>"I thought I smelled rain..." Sanosuke muttered, sending water flying as he shook out his hair; it hung heavy once he stopped, plastered thick around his eyes and continuing to bead with stubborn droplets.</p><p>"Shoulda listened when that dickhead first told us ta leave." Chou's clothing squelched as he shouldered alongside Sanosuke under the shallow alcove. "<i>'Last call's comin' early, ya ugly shits. Git gone!'</i>" </p><p>"Fuck that guy, you wanted to get drunk!" Sanosuke laughed at the poor impersonation, elbowing against him where they touched. "Get off me, broomhead, you're soaked."</p><p>"Oi, I'm drunk alright... drunk as shit– 'n don't go shovin' me around when yer just as wet yerself, shit-fer-brains," Chou elbowed back and squeezed the liquid from his own mass of collapsing hair, pushing it out of his face; he looked at Sanosuke, who was still smiling like a drunken idiot, and could no longer resist temptation. Propping his wrapped sword in the space where he'd been standing, Chou planted a hand on the wall near Sanosuke's head and slid in front of the younger man until they were chest to chest, cornering him; he pushed wet spikes out of Sanosuke's questioning face before grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling him in for a rough kiss.</p><p>For a while, the only sound between them was the slick engagement of tongues and huffed breaths as Chou flattened Sanosuke against the wall. He felt Sanosuke's fingers returning the treatment of his own hair, threading close to tug at Chou's scalp, as his other hand tightened in the soaked, red fabric of Chou's clothing. Nipping at that long-missed mouth, Chou sucked at Sanosuke's lower lip until he tasted blood and pushed his tongue into the reopened wound; it made him harder in an instant and, if the warmth digging into his thigh was any indication, it was having a similar effect on Sanosuke. Chou cursed his gloves as he found the bunched top of Sanosuke's pants, wanting to feel his skin uninhibited, but he didn't bother removing them and loosened the ties anyway, sliding a hand underneath and around to palm at firm flesh. He let out a disappointed growl as Sanosuke's voice broke through the intensifying storm, the roosterhead pulling away to look down the length of alley as frequent lightning illuminated them.</p><p>"Somebody's gonna see us."</p><p>"Why do I feel like we've had this conversation before?" Chou snarked and kissed him harder.</p><p>"<i>Chou</i>." Sanosuke urged, freeing his mouth again and pushing at Chou's shoulders. </p><p>"<i>'If I'm lucky'</i>, ain't that whatcha said?" Chou purred. "Or was that all big talk, shy-guy? 'sides, we ain't goin' nowhere 'til this shit passes—" </p><p>Chou jerked forward with a hiss of annoyance as rainwater poured down his back from the roof above. Realizing the sudden nearness of their bodies in the shallow alcove, he grinned; squeezing the cheek in his hand, he sucked at more of Sanosuke's flushed neck until his face was manhandled out of reach. Their eyes met–a sliver of brown just barely visible around Sanosuke's blown wide pupils–and his grin widened against the fingers over his mouth. If Sanosuke needed convincing, he could be convincing. "<i>C'mon.</i> Ain't nobody with a brain gonna be wanderin' 'round right now, it's too late 'n too wet 'n they ain't gonna wanna get zapped."–a convenient bolt of lightning emphasized his point–"Just lemme fuck ya real good right here, make a mess outta ya fer old time's sake, eh? Then anybody dumb enough ta be out here'll know exactly who ya belong to."</p><p>"Damn it, Chou, why do you gotta be such a freak?" Tightening his grip on Chou's face, Sanosuke drew him back in. Clothing was shoved aside in a hurry, just enough, and soon he had Sanosuke hitched against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist; hip deep in tight heat that had haunted him for weeks. </p><p>— </p><p>The universe was likely laughing at him: caught in the rain on his walk home without an umbrella, thoroughly soaked until his shoes were soggy– he couldn't even smoke as it was far too wet and windy to strike a match, much less pull his cigarettes out without ruining the entire pack. It was unpleasant, adding another layer to his growing annoyance. It had been days and Saitou doubted it had taken Chou this long to scope out the mansion in Yokohama, but still the sword-hunter had shown hide nor hair of himself. He'd waited for his subordinate, not patiently but frequently, at the same damn soba stall for every damn meal until the friendly attendant knew <i>Fujita</i> by both name and order. Really, he should have known better than to expect anything else, but it was his own foolishness for not telling that idiot to just meet him at the police station in the first place.  </p><p>It was also due to his own foolishness that he'd been caught in the downpour. He should have returned to his government-provided lodging ages ago, but he had lingered around the precinct until late into the night–prepared to half-heartedly scold Chou in the event he had given up on his orders and looked for Saitou there instead–reviewing unfinished reports on the police chief's assault and the attack on Maekawa dojo. He was certain it was connected to his current pursuit, considering the descriptions of strange weapons used and a former Juppongatana's meat-suit rotting in Evidence, but the police lost track of the perpetrators and details were lacking: shoddy police work if he'd ever seen it.</p><p>The sky rumbled overhead and Saitou found the driest patch of wall to tuck himself against, reconsidering the possibility of a cigarette as rain muddied the ground in front of him. Thunder cracked as lightning bathed the street in a flicker of white, the sound startlingly sharp and <i>almost</i> enough to conceal the out of place, repetitive thudding from somewhere around the corner from his temporary shelter. Curiosity getting the better of him–investigation was his thing, after all–he peered around the corner.</p><p>The universe was absolutely laughing at him.</p><p>In the storm's inconsistent light, he could make out Chou... Chou, who had Sanosuke shoved up against a wall with both long legs wrapped around his waist. The self-declared spy was moving against his companion like a desperate man and Saitou couldn't look away. Knowing those two idiots had been fucking in Kyoto was one thing; <i>seeing it</i>–having it rubbed so completely in his face–was something else altogether. The <i>noises</i> Chou was working out of Sanosuke were obscene and poorly stifled; the sound of them pooling warmth south until it settled just below Saitou's belt buckle uncomfortably.</p><p>One moan in particular ripped ragged and a little too loud from Sanosuke before a clap of thunder drowned it out. Lightning followed immediately, revealing the boy's head tipped back against the wall, neck elongated and exposed and <i>enticing</i>; adam's apple bobbing through another gasp that sounded an awful lot like his subordinate's name. Chou's words were more coherent, as well as filthy, incessant, and infuriating.</p><p>The wind picked up, gaining power in the funnel of snug buildings; it hit with a sting that Saitou ignored, not bothering to hide from its spray or the other men– it was unlikely the two would even notice his presence as wrapped up in each other as they were. Another flash of lightning caught on the wet hollow of Sanosuke's neck and a quick tongue swept away lingering raindrops before Chou bit down hard. Sanosuke's eyes shot open, wide and glassy, with a pained curse and he pulled at Chou's hair like he wanted him gone or closer: Saitou couldn't tell as he saw red. </p><p>He wanted to grip Chou by the throat and tear him away, run him through with his blade and leave him to bleed out in a puddle of muddy water. He was conflicted, torn between his own stubborn pride telling him to mind his business–to move along despite the rain and leave them to their indecency–and the want to be the one causing those sounds; taking up the space between Sanosuke's legs. He should have done it ages ago–eliminate his only known rival in this venture and take what he'd been denying himself all along–but he'd been an idiot, just as stupid as the two tangled around each other barely six meters away. </p><p>But as much as he wanted to lash out, he couldn't move. Seeing Sanosuke like this–soaking wet and panting; debauched senseless by <i>Chou</i>–caused that persistent spark of jealousy to join the fire low in Saitou's gut. Chou's laugh was aggravating, <i>smug</i>, as he obliged a pleading request for more, nailing Sanosuke to the wall harder with each thrust and earning more of those sounds that flared through Saitou's being, scorching hot and threatening to turn him to ash despite the chill of rainwater. The longer he lingered, watching, a voyeur in the storm, the more intrigued he became by the look of them together and Saitou couldn't quite identify the newest desire humming through his bones. </p><p>He was spellbound as Chou mouthed along Sanosuke's jaw, passing the teeth-bruised curve of his neck, and futher still until that white jacket was pushed aside, exposing more slick skin. The tempo pounding Saitou's ribcage to bits increased as Chou marked a path, biting into tight muscles and along Sanosuke's collarbone until he reached that scar–<i>his</i> scar–and Saitou saw red again, the color consuming his vision. Sanosuke's sudden reaction had him easing the grip he had on his sword.</p><p>"Oi! The<i> fuck</i> did I tell you?!" Sanosuke wrenched Chou back by his hair, glaring and spitting mad in stark contrast to his previous submission. </p><p>"My bad," Chou laughed, still far too smug for Saitou's liking, and he stilled as his neck bent further. "Got carried away is all, tori. Won't happen again."</p><p>Sanosuke scowled and pulled on the hair in his fist until the sword-hunter neared, movement resuming harder than before. They kissed with an easy familiarity that made Saitou want to gut himself; it was his own fault, he acknowledged, a creation of his own making. If he hadn't faked his own death–hadn't hidden away with the excuse of not needing allies with ties to the Battousai–he would have pursued Sanosuke and it would be him taking the roosterhead against that wall, his lips on that tanned skin, his fingerprints leaving bruises, and <i>his</i> mouth on that scar–Sanosuke could try to push him away, but he wouldn't cower and retreat as easily as Chou. </p><p>Sanosuke buried his face into the garment hanging wet on Chou's shoulder as his limbs wound tighter, fists balling in the hair at the back of Chou's head as one of the sword-hunter's hands disappeared between them; the other arm wrapped around Sanosuke as the roosterhead slumped bonelessly before tensing, lifting his head to give Chou a well-deserved bite of his own. His hands released and he sought purchase on the wall at his back–reaching out and finding it with a strong grip that splintered wood under his fingertips–as Sanosuke rode it out, failing to stifle a pathetic wail against Chou's skin. Saitou could hear Chou grumbling–a series of threats that if Sanosuke didn't let go of his neck <i>right the fuck now</i>–but paid him no mind as Sanosuke's jaw unlocked and trembled, gasping obscenities. He went slack again, weakly grasping at the wall for support; head lolling and eyes shut, Sanosuke laughed as if delirious from the intensity of it all.</p><p>A mist blew over Saitou again, gentler this time as the storm's ferocity began dying off, and it was enough to snap him out of his trance. He returned to the overhang just around the corner and pulled out his–<i>miraculously dry</i>–carton of cigarettes, taking the end of one between his teeth and trying not to bite straight through as he fought for composure. So much had been stirred up inside of him and for once, he didn't know what to do; he didn't know what he wanted to do. Ducking his head, he cupped his palms around a struck match and inhaled until the tip burned bright and angry. He killed half of his smoke in record time.</p><p>"Shit–!"</p><p>His head shot up, no longer caring to shield his cigarette from the waning storm.</p><p>"Shhhhuut up, 'm almost finished, partne–"</p><p>"Get the fuck off me!"</p><p>"What the fuck's yer deal?!"</p><p>"I smell smoke–"</p><p>"How the fuck can you smell anything over this fuckin' rain?"</p><p>"I just do–"</p><p>"I ever tell ya ya've got the nose of a fuckin' hound dog? 'Cause ya do 'n right now it's pissin' me off."</p><p>"You know what's pissing me off?! Your shrimp dick. Get it out of me!"</p><p>"No–" Saitou heard a body hit the ground, splashing into a puddle, but he did not move, refusing to indulge his curiosity any longer. "–you little shit!!"</p><p>"Stop yelling! You're making my damn head hurt!"</p><p>"<i>'Stop yellin'</i>, he says. Pfft. Shit ain't fair, partner. Ya get yers 'n now yer gonna leave me here, balls turnin' blue?"</p><p>"Shut up, you. My place is close, come on." Their voices were fading, heading away from Saitou's end of the alley.</p><p>"They're gonna fucking fall off–mmphh!"</p><p>"Just. <i>Come. On.</i>"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The boot bruise is cuz Banjin kicked Sanosuke in the face a few days prior when he attacked the Maekawa dojo. (Ch159)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rain had cleared by the time early morning light filtered in through paper windows. Chou had never been one to sleep any deeper than a doze, unless black-out drunk or knocked unconscious(and he had been neither the night before) so the stirring of another at his side had woken him long before the first breach of sunlight. He watched with mild fascination–and envy, because the kid slept like a freakin' log–as Sanosuke wrapped wiry arms around his middle and squished a cheek into his chest. Sanosuke's face–softened in sleep and unmistakably <i>nineteen</i>; the mottled discoloration of that fading bruise somehow managing to make him look maybe even younger–was as unguarded as ever; revealing far too much, very misplaced, trust for the man he used as a pillow. Despite the times before when Chou had seen that same look, and the times before when Sanosuke had proven comfortable enough to fall asleep in Chou's presence, it twisted something new and sharp inside of him. </p><p>He wasn't trustworthy. Chou knew that better than anyone and would be the first to admit it: he was a manipulative asshole, a skilled thief, and a convincing liar, and would slit your throat as soon as sweet talk you– and those truths absolutely disqualified him as someone deserving of anyone's trust. Hell, he'd been lying to Sanosuke for months–well, not quite months<i> exactly</i>, considering the time they'd spent apart without communication; usually he would latch onto such a hair-splitting technicality to ease his rarely present conscience, but this was different, Sanosuke was different–and his dishonesty made him feel something akin to guilt. Even the half-truths he'd spun last night, about his time spent in Kyoto and his purpose in Tokyo, made him feel slimy. His attempts at shifting the blame–telling himself that the idiot shouldn't be so damn naive, just taking him at his word without question–did nothing to ease said guilt (because yes, it was full-on guilt he was feeling, without a doubt). </p><p>Not once had Sanosuke questioned him on anything–well, other than whether or not they should be humping each other in public, and even then he just <i>trusted Chou</i> too damn much. Shit, Sanosuke had never even asked him trivial shit like his own age–which admittedly Chou had failed to do the same, as Saitou so kindly pointed out–but the kid had to have known that the sword-hunter was at least a good decade his senior–he was getting wrinkles, damn it–did that not bother him? Chou was robbing the frickin' cradle–though this really wouldn't be the first time, considering he'd literally<i> kidnapped a child </i>before, which was just one more point against him–but, maybe, since Sanosuke had that <i>thing</i> for Saitou's old ass, age wasn't an issue... or maybe he was, again, too <i>young</i> and <i>dumb</i> to consider the dangers of fooling around with older men who potentially had no interest beyond sheathing their katana. </p><p>Chou didn't know what Sanosuke's endgame was when it came to whatever was going on between them, and he would definitely be lying again if he said he knew his own intentions, but this friends(<i>acquaintances</i>?)-with-benefits arrangement couldn't last forever because that was too good to be true. Usually his hookups were easy; sex was just sex–no more, sometimes less–and all that heartfelt, passionate shit fell by the wayside because it wasn't meant for people like him: untrustworthy people; evil people; people with a laundry list of enemies just waiting to find a weak point. How long until Sanosuke got bored and moved on? Or demanded more? Chou wasn't sure which possible outcome unsettled him more because, right now, what they had was working for him– even if it was edging a little close to something like a relationship. He was the happiest he'd been in ages, thanks to the fight merchant drooling puddles on his chest. He had never given their situation much thought–outside of the fastest ways to get Sanosuke out of his pants when he was around and how much he missed the sex when he was absent–but the more he did think, the more his fucking head hurt and the more he found he actually kinda-sorta liked Sanosuke– but that didn't mean he wanted to take it any further!</p><p>He was getting dizzy, thinking himself in circles. Waking up first and sober–<b>s</b>ober being an S word he currently hated–in the near silence of another's home was something Chou absolutely despised. It gave him too much time to think and he, under any other circumstances and with any other person, would have escaped the situation by disappearing into the night before post-nut clarity set in–but he couldn't bring himself to move. He just wished his mind would shut up before it ruined the first pleasant thing that had happened to him in months. </p><p>Thinking about swords instead, Chou ran a mental inventory of those he'd brought along–regrettably stashed in that dingy room he'd rented–and those he'd left in a safehouse near Kyoto. Swords were easy; they made sense to Chou and he never had to worry about being honest, or <i>dis</i>honest, with them. As long as he tended to them, keeping them sharp and shined, they took care of him in return. He found he couldn't keep his focus off of the kid for long because Sanosuke reminded him of a sword he'd once stolen. The previous owner–who'd had what was coming to him<i> solely</i> for the poor condition in which he'd kept his katana–allowed its edge to dirty and dull. Chou spent long hours revitalizing the blade; he sharpened and oiled the steel until it became mirror smooth, rebraided the tsuka(which was disappointing as its original ito was his favorite shade of blood red, but too tattered to justify keeping),  and replaced its scuffed kashira with the decorative pommel salvaged from a sword beyond repair. It was beautiful. It was deadly. It was the closest thing to precious that Chou had ever owned. </p><p>Sanosuke was kind of like that katana–though Chou wasn't about to wax poetic about a freakin' roosterhead(that was saved for swords and swords alone). Chou read enough in that file to understand the kid was damaged, and not just from the multitude of bruises and breaks that seemed ever present, but with a little tender loving care, Sanosuke could shine brighter than any blade. Chou shook his head, frowning and quietly scolding himself for sinking too deep into stupid thoughts. He couldn't care for Sanosuke because Sanosuke wasn't a sword. He needed to keep his distance. He didn't want their encounters being misconstrued as anything more and he didn't want Sanosuke developing feelings, so if he roughed him up enough in bed, maybe the roosterhead wouldn't feel anything for him past aggression and lust. Sanosuke had to know there was more to sex than what they did, he had to know that this wasn't anything resembling an actual relationship–right? But he said he'd never done it before... he'd been a virgin when he started sleeping with Chou... so maybe he didn't know and maybe Chou'd set himself up for something far more complicated than he liked, all because he was thinking with the wrong head. Or maybe he was thinking too damn much and a hookup was all the roosterhead wanted in return. But finding out would require asking and Chou was not about to be the one to bring it up.  </p><p>Squeezing his eyes shut at the intensifying ache in his skull, he groaned. Thinking was a <i>pain</i>. When he wasn't with Sanosuke, all he thought about was being with Sanosuke; now that they were reunited, he wasn't sure what the hell he was doing with the kid or if he even wanted to continue. Maybe he<i> should</i> just surrender to Saitou and let him have what he wanted because that bastard probably had a better understanding of his own intentions. Besides, how long did he really have before Saitou showed up and destroyed this anyway? Shattering it to pieces, just to prove he could, in the same way Shishio had that sword? Would it be as devastating? And did he really want to find out?</p><p>With an exhale that stirred the wild strands beneath his chin, he let his eyes wander about the room for any kind of distraction. The wood stove burned out hours ago and had hopefully provided their clothing–hanging above on a length of twine–enough heat to fully dry overnight. There was a collection of dishes on a small table, a roll of sarashi here, some bandages there; the rowhome was sparsely furnished, humble, <i>boring</i>, and the only decoration was an out of place nishiki-e pinned to the wall. </p><p>The painting of Captain Sagara–who's inked name he recognized from Saitou's meticulously kept file on the roosterhead–<i>freaked him the hell out</i>. It had witnessed him plowing the Sekihotai's surviving cadet like a goddamn field and the thought made Chou's skin crawl. He tried reminding himself that it was just a freakin' painting, that the guy's eyes were closed, and<i> ghosts weren't real</i>, but the thought of that man's face hanging on the wall while he was balls deep in Sanosuke was weird as hell. It was like he'd had an audience the entire time and the only time he liked an audience was under his own terms. Thinking back, he'd felt the same in that dark alley and assumed it was just intoxicated tricks of the mind, but maybe Sagara had eyes on them, watching from the afterlife–maybe that was why Sanosuke was always so worried someone would see.</p><p>After many long, annoying minutes of staring at that pretty man's painted smile, and Sanosuke's snore droning against his nipple, he'd had enough and tried to push the roosterhead off of him. Sanosuke, continuing to sleep like the dead, stretched right back over Chou with a grunt, crushing him with 70(yes, 70. Saitou was, once again, right) densely packed kilograms of deceivingly lean muscle. Escape seemed futile as powerful arms tightened their hold and long legs trapped him, sliding over and under his own to hook ankles around his calves. Sanosuke was <i>everywhere</i>–like a boney, four-limbed octopus–looking absolutely pleased with himself, even as his eyes remained shut. It–this gratuitous display of Sanosuke's easy trust for <i>him</i>–made that ache well up in Chou's chest again; he wondered how much longer this could go on before his heart grew sick of his shit and decided to just give out. </p><p>He turned from Sanosuke–deliberately avoiding another glance at that painting as he was unable to bear its creepy existence a second more–and stared longingly at the door until something caught his eye. There, in the furthest corner of the room, was a recessed storage area half-covered by a thin curtain; within lay the severed remnants of what he recognized as the hulking mass of an antique zanbatou. He'd almost forgotten all about it. They'd discussed the broken sword the previous night, along with Sanosuke's hopes for its repair–preferably before the insanity ensuing in the next few days–and figuring out<i> that </i> little problem would certainly make for a welcomed distraction. From the futon, he could make out what appeared to be very clean edges along the surface of the break–courtesy of Battousai, so he'd been told–and could see how easily the pieces would fit together; it would just be a matter of getting them to<i> stay </i>together. He didn't have access to any quality smithing tools–and didn't trust himself with them for that kind of sword repair–but he could come up with something; he could improvise. </p><p>Distracted as he was, running through every eleventh-hour repair trick he could recall, he nearly missed whatever Sanosuke was muttering in his sleep. When all went silent again, Chou dismissed it to consider the practicality of holding the pieces together with iron bands. A second, louder whimper–sounding a whole lot like his name this time–had his head snapping around. This close-up, he could see every twitch of muscle in Sanosuke's face as it scrunched through a multitude of conflicting emotions. When he finally settled again with a drawn out moan, Chou's entire body lit up with interest. </p><p>Chou wasn't the only one getting hard and couldn't help a whine of his own at that knowledge. The kid was having a <i>wet–fucking–dream</i>. About <i>him</i>. Continuous and quiet needy noises had Chou unable to stop himself grinding against Sanosuke's thigh and he ached to be inside of him again. The longer he lay there, the stronger the urge to flip Sanosuke over and just fuck him awake grew until he could hardly restrain himself. The roosterhead probably wouldn't be <i>too</i> mad to be woken up like that... maybe. Chou was curious if it was something he could get away with without getting his teeth knocked out.</p><p>When Sanosuke unconsciously <i>humped his leg</i>, consent slipped from his mind. The little tease shouldn't trust him and <i>this</i> was just one more reason why. Squeezing handfuls of every muscle he could find along the way, Chou bent the leg laying over him higher until it fell across his abdomen. That same searching hand found cheeks as soft as the rest of that pliant body and he managed to reach Sanosuke's center without too much awkward maneuvering. Every earlier concern started to fade to nothing; the potential outcome of their twisted arrangement, every doubt and second thought, their ages–none of it mattered.</p><p>"<i>Fuck–</i> Chou..."</p><p>The sound of his name so pathetically whined had him biting his lip to stifle a noise of his own. Burying his face in the crown of Sanosuke's hair, he inhaled the musk of old sweat and surprised himself with how much he enjoyed it. He snared the boy around his waist and was about to pin him to the futon when Sanosuke hissed an S-word so unmistakable that Chou paused. His stomach sank. Sanosuke's everything was suddenly panicked and he clung to Chou with a considerable amount of strength for someone still asleep. It became all too clear that he was having a nightmare–an occurrence which Chou'd witnessed twice in Kyoto, though he'd never told Sanosuke–and every drop of guilt from before returned tenfold to maul at his insides.</p><p>Sanosuke shuddered, twisting weakly before going still and silent, as Chou pulled him close in an unsure attempt at comfort and the swordsman found the sudden lack of noise and movement more disturbing than the frightened call of Saitou's name. Was Sanosuke going to wake up on his own? Should Chou wake him up? This was the kind of personal shit he liked to avoid at all costs. He had his own slew of nightmares that he was barely able to deal with–how was he supposed to help with someone else's? But... it was his name, and <i>Saitou's</i> name, that the roosterhead called in his sleep, so that <i>technically</i> made it his fault. Right? Well, Sanosuke had<i> moaned</i> his name, so that part of his dreaming must have been pleasant, and he wasn't outwardly distressed until Saitou's apparent appearance in his subconscious–so wasn't this really all that creep's fault? </p><p>Chou glared at the ceiling and told himself he shouldn't feel responsible because he<i> wasn't</i>! He was just following orders by keeping his big trap shut, so if the blame was anyone's, it should've been Saitou's for causing this mess in the first place. What kind of selfish prick faked his own death to hide from the person he supposedly had feelings for? Chou was fucked up, but at least he'd never stooped so low. But he <i>was</i> enabling the entire thing, so he had to ask himself: since when did Sawagejo Chou take orders so diligently from <i>anyone</i>? Sure, he'd take suggestions, maybe stick a<i> tiiiny </i>bit closer to the letter when his ass was on the line, but Chou liked to do things his own way, so why was he so willing to act without even asking "how high" when Saitou instructed him to jump? Why not just wake Sanosuke up right now and tell him everything? That would be a guaranteed way to send Sanosuke into a blind rage, but maybe it would mean no more nightmares? It could also handle the little issue of Saitou stealing Sanosuke right out from under him before the other man ever even got the chance. Chou doubted Sanosuke would give him the time of day after discovering Saitou's survival on his own, but if Chou could get in a preemptive strike then maybe the kid could understand his dilemma. </p><p><i>Except ya'd like yer head ta remain where it is, partner.</i> </p><p>He scowled, knowing there'd be consequences just for ratting Saitou out and knowing they'd be worse if his true intentions were ever discovered. Chou felt trapped. Saitou had him like a dog on a leash whether he liked it or not and all it would take was one word from Saitou for the government to find his assistance no longer necessary–or Saitou would just take him out himself and be found fully justified by his superiors. Inevitably, the truth would come out and, when it did, Sanosuke would probably break his jaw for lying to him the entire time. There was no way to go about this without someone(likely him, no matter the outcome) getting hurt. He never thought himself capable of digging such an impressively deep and complicated hole, but here he was, trying to decide whether to get himself killed now or later. But again, it wasn't like he wanted to court Sanosuke and keep him long term, so why the fuck should he care either way? </p><p>Chou's spiraling train of thought came to a screeching halt  when Sanosuke screamed through tightly sealed lips. Though muffled, it was still startlingly loud and enough to make Chou jump. Acting out of reflex, he clamped a hand over Sanosuke's mouth to shut him up. Jolting awake and flustered, Sanosuke nearly nailed Chou with a headbutt as he pushed away the offending hand and sat up.</p><p>"What the <i>fuck</i>, Chou?!" Squinting in the morning light, Sanosuke grabbed the closest thing to use as a projectile and winged it at Chou's head. Luckily, it was just a buckwheat pillow and nothing heavier.</p><p>"What the fuck yerself!" Chou spat as he defended against the attack. Unsure if the roosterhead even realized what had happened in his sleep, Chou avoided any mention of it, unwilling to open himself up to damning conversation about the subject of Sanosuke's nightmare. So Chou did what he did best: bullshit his way out of the situation. "I was gonna fuck ya awake but wasn't sure you'd appreciate the surprise."</p><p>"And you thought smothering me was a better option?" Sanosuke threw a calculating glance over his shoulder, shielding puffy eyes from the sun with his bandaged hand. He looked like he was heavily considering whatever was on his mind and, judging by the unease face, Chou was willing to bet Sanosuke knew exactly what had happened. He sighed, posture drooping, head bowing. Finally, voice thick with something other than slumber, he grumbled, "next time, just go with your first idea."</p><p>"Ohhh?"</p><p>"Or just let me<i> fuckin' sleep, </i>man."</p><p>"Nah, tori." Chou purred, trying to ease the tension that fogged the room. Sitting up, he leaned into Sanosuke's naked back and wrapped the kid in his arms with a sharp nip at a shoulder, jerking his thumb at the zanbatou's corpse. "See, I got a brilliant idea, came ta me in a dream"–a sudden flinch told Chou that Sanosuke absolutely remembered the nightmare–"but I'm gonna need all that brute strength of yers if we're gonna make it happen." </p><p>"Yeah? You really think we can fix it?" Sanosuke grinned, sleepy and slow, setting softer eyes on Chou as he relaxed into a pair of groping hands. "I guess I can forgive you then, for waking me up–this time. Do it again and we're fighting."</p><p>Chou's stomach twisted tighter at the words about to come tumbling out of his mouth. Gods, he was fucking awful.  "Just<i> trust</i> me, rooster-boy."</p><p>—</p><p>It had taken the better part of that morning to gather the materials necessary to assemble the zanbatou's pieces and, by the following mid-day, they had repaired the massive blade to a point where Chou was confident it could endure at least a little bit of combat. As they worked, Sanosuke told stories that bordered on ridiculous, but the shattered bones in his hand, the boot print on his face, and the wood pile remains of the Akabeko–the sister restaurant to the Shirobeko that they saw in town the day before–told Chou that they held truth. An Armstrong cannon, a camo-clad asshole with metal gauntlets, a booby-trapped meatsuit–and a masked man climbing out of the mouth of said meatsuit–<i>Jinchuu</i>; whoever these people were, they were bad news for the ex-manslayer and, of course, Sanosuke–who had gotten himself involved. Interestingly, the big boss fit the description of the man he was sent to spy on in Yokohama and Mr. Meatsuit sounded a whole hell of a lot like someone he once knew.</p><p>That's how they found themselves outside of the police station, Chou instructing Sanosuke to hang tight while he went inside to deliver a sealed letter from Kawaji–to whoever was in charge in Tokyo–to inform them of his cleared charges and his current involvement in the Rengoku case. The only problem being the police chief's absence–as Uramura was still suffering the aftermath of the attack on his home, according to what Sanosuke had told him. He figured someone was in charge now, maybe even Saitou if he happened to be there–and<i> that </i>added another layer of difficulty considering the roosterhead would be waiting right outside–but Chou wouldn't know for certain until he went in and found out. </p><p>"Don't go anywhere!" Chou ordered, grinning at the defiance snarked  at his back as he cleared the front door. Inside were a scattering of men in uniform, most ignoring his brightly colored presence until one–who walked with all the swagger of someone who definitely wasn't in charge, but liked to think they were–approached him with a frown.</p><p>"Something I can do for you, stranger?" Chou shoved the letter into his hands, figuring this guy was as good as any if he was going to act like he was important. As he loosened the seal and took in the words, Chou turned on the charm, knowing they were being watched by a handful of men near the back of the room.</p><p>"Sure can, partner." He smiled wide, going for unthreatening but knowing it still carried a sharp edge. "See, I was s'pposed ta meet <i>my</i> boss when I got here, but seems we ain't been able ta link up"–he kept talking when the man looked ready to interrupt–"now I ain't lookin' fer him right this minute! But if'n he is here, I'd like ta know 'cause my associate and he... well, they ain't exactly the best of friends, if ya get me. "</p><p>"I'm not supposed to divulge whether or not this Fujita"–he motioned with the letter–"has been around, but lets just say I haven't seen anyone by that name today. If finding your superior isn't why you're here, what do you need?" The guy was polite enough to ignore the haughty attitude, but was also blatantly judging Chou on his accent and attire with the way his lip curled.  </p><p>"A reliable source informed me of a string of recent attacks in town." The man's frown deepened, but he nodded. "My understandin' is a corpse was brought in fer evidence 'n I got a sneakin' suspicion who it might just be 'n –if I'm right–it's connected to my current case."</p><p>"It's probably half-rotted by now, so I don't know how much help it could possibly be, but if you really want to see it, I can set something up. It'll take some time to... retrieve, though." It was obvious the guy was disgusted by the idea, but at least Chou didn't have to twist his arm. He returned the letter, pointing to a closed door on the far side of the room. "Until then, you're welcome to review the reports, maybe you'll find something more helpful than poking around a bloated corpse."</p><p>"Ugh, well, when ya put it like<i> that</i>," he gagged with that same smile. "Still, it'd be real appreciated if I could take a look. 'til then, my associate 'n I'll be checkin' out yer paperwork."</p><p>"He from Kyoto too?" The look on the man's face said he certainly hoped not. </p><p>"Nahh, he's a local, said he was present fer some of the action. Figured I could use the first-hand account fer cross-referencin'." </p><p>The guy waved dismissively as he turned to address some of the observing men. When Chou returned, explaining the situation to Sanosuke who lagged behind, the last thing he expected was the sudden outburst from the guy pretending to be in charge.</p><p>"No! Hell no! You!" Every vein in the man's head filled to near bursting. "Get. Out!"</p><p>"Aww, Yuuji, <i>pal</i>, don't be like that!" Yuuji, reddening with every one of Sanosuke's words, lost any semblance of polite professionalism. "You ain't happy to see me?"</p><p>"Not on your fucking life, Sagara." He turned to Chou with disbelief. "<i>This</i> is your 'reliable source'?"</p><p>Chou didn't have to answer as Sanosuke jumped in both verbally and physically, leaning down to eye level since he towered over the stocky man.</p><p>"Well<i> I </i>was at Maekawa Dojo while <i>you </i>were sitting around with your thumb up your ass"–Yuuji's face twisted into a snarl–"so I'd say I'm pretty damn reliable."</p><p>"<i>I</i> was doing my job!" Yuuji's jabbing finger was smacked away before he could prod Sanosuke's chest. "Something<i> you </i>wouldn't know shit about, even if it fucking bit you!" </p><p>"That <i>was</i> your job, dumbass! You are<i> lit-er-al-ly </i>a cop, Yuu–"</p><p>"–that's Officer Kato to you–"</p><p>"–if anything, I did your job<i> for</i> you 'cause I sure as shit didn't see your lazy ass at that dojo." Sanosuke growled, no longer laughing and genuinely just as annoyed as the cop. He stabbed right back at Yuuji's chest and there was little the man could do to stop it. "You know what, it was probably good you hid, little guy– woulda gotten your ass kicked anyway."</p><p>"You–!"</p><p>"So, Yuuji!" As entertaining as it was to watch Sanosuke explode, he wanted to get in and out in case Saitou did decide to show up. So Chou cut in, leaning around Sanosuke as he clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Those reports?"</p><p>As he led Sanosuke away, Yuuji–who he'd need to keep a close eye on because the man seemed like one hell of a loose cannon and those were only fun when they were aimed far away from him–could be heard complaining about the roosterhead to what now appeared clearly as his group of minions. They really did not like Sanosuke, based on the colorful insults hurled at his back, but if Sanosuke cared, he didn't show it.</p><p>—</p><p>He was used to Yuuji's shit. The guy had it out for him from the moment he'd transferred to Tokyo and something about their personalities just rubbed each other in all the wrong ways. Admittedly, Sanosuke had never bothered trying to fix it and his repeat offenses didn't help their rocky relationship, but he hadn't even done anything–<i>yet</i>–to deserve an attitude the second he walked in the door! So if the man was going to hassle him, he'd hassle right back–<i>'an eye for an eye'</i> or... something.</p><p>"Ya got the <i>nicest</i> friends, tori." Chou smirked, shutting the door behind them, and the words made every hair on his neck stand up in protest. </p><p>"<i>Tch</i>, fuck that guy. He's no friend of mine." Sanosuke looked around the room, curiosity strong as he usually never saw more than the bullpen and cell block. Taking in dusted bookshelves, an ugly rug, and the couch against the wall, he let Chou lead the way to a desktop full of papers. </p><p>"Sarcasm, genius." Chou nudged with an elbow as they came to a halt, side-by-side. Sanosuke found himself overwhelmed by the stacks of sorted documents, but his slight embarrassment at Chou's answer offered a distraction.</p><p>"I‐I knew that!" He hadn't, because he hadn't really been paying attention to Chou when they entered the room; he was more focused on the smell of recent smoke that lingered in the air. Chou's smirk continued as the blond looked away and, even with those eyes off of him, he felt flustered. "Whatever, houki. Just what're we looking for exactly?"</p><p>"Information"–Sanosuke rolled his eyes because<i> no shit </i>–"on the perpetrators involved in the attacks. If that meatsuit really is Iwambo, that's a direct link between them and Shishio, meanin' this Jinchuu guy might be exactly who we're lookin' fer in relation to the Rengoku." </p><p>Chou flipped through pages at a rapid pace and Sanosuke couldn't keep up; trying to read that fast was making his eyes cross. Not finding whatever he was looking for, Chou reached for the next pile and, in pushing that first stack away, knocked something to the floor.</p><p>"Anythin' good?" Chou peered over the desk as Sanosuke retrieved the fallen box. Finding it to be nothing more than a half-empty package of cigarettes, Sanosuke pocketed them with a shrug.</p><p>"Nah. So who's this 'we' you keep mentioning? Kawaji back in Tokyo? Man, I can't fucking stand that guy." As he stood, he realized that Chou hadn't moved a muscle. "What?"</p><p>"Huh.." Unfreezing himself, Chou launched right into banter without missing another beat. "Ya know, ya got this real funny habit of committin' crimes in front of cops. No wonder <i>Officer Kato</i> hates ya."</p><p>"Pffft, you're no cop." Yuuji's name spoken in such a rude tone made him snicker.</p><p>"Am too! Kinda."</p><p>"Then why don't you dress like one? Hmm?" </p><p>"Ya sayin' ya wanna see me in a proper uniform, rooster-boy?" Chou's suggestive tone and wiggling brows made Sanosuke's fingers itch to hit him. He should've known he was leaving himself wide open for something like that. </p><p>"Why do you always gotta go there?!" Teasing Chou inevitably turned into flirting because the older man could be too damn smooth, or a huge pervert, when he wanted. It made Sanosuke's cheeks burn every time; especially now because the truth was he  kind of had a thing for uniforms–depending on who was wearing the uniform–ever since... "You didn't answer my question, jerk."</p><p>"It's funny watchin' ya change colors." Chou, definitely smug about the blush he'd put on Sanosuke's face, returned half of his attention to the papers. "Gonna put those smokes back or do I need ta tell yer pal he's got a reason ta come arrest ya?"

</p><p>"<i>What's yours is also mine'</i>," he recited and stuck out his tongue. If these were Yuuji's cigarettes, then it was the least the little man could do for being such a dick. "And you wouldn't do that. You like me too much." </p><p>He considered helping Chou in his search, but he had no idea what they were looking for, or where to start, and if Chou wasn't going to answer his question, then he wasn't going to be helpful either. He also considered sitting himself in the middle of the desk, just to be a dick, but wasn't sure if he wanted Chou's old ass to get annoyed with him just yet. Flopping on the couch instead, a pack of matches caught his eye next to a full ashtray on the windowsill above and he reached overhead to borrow those too. The look Chou gave him was bemused, as if he couldn't believe Sanosuke's cheek, but–even with the weeks of separation that had taken place–Chou should've been familiar with his nonsense. 
</p><p>"Nah, I wouldn't, 'cause fuck that guy. But whoever those belong to ain't gonna be too happy when they turn up missin'." Chou scanned through a few more pages before abandoning them altogether and joining him on the couch. </p><p>"Can't turn up if they're missing." Sanosuke pointed out as an arm wrapped around his shoulders and yanked him close; the older man's breath sent goosebumps prickling over Sanosuke's skin and the anticipation of Chou's mouth had every muscle in his abdomen tightening. It was ridiculous how sensitive he was. He figured he would have gotten used to it by now, considering his experience, but that wasn't the case.</p><p>"Besides"–the sly husk of Chou's voice directly in his ear had him struggling to not squirm from just that one word–"if someone's gonna punish ya"–the arm at his shoulders slipped between him and the back of the couch so fingers could weasel their way beneath his shirt–"shouldn't it be me? The one who caught ya red handed?"</p><p>Fuck. Sanosuke couldn't stop himself from shivering as teeth finally grazed the side of his neck, skirting over a day old mark still sore to the touch. This was not the time nor the place to be getting all worked up, but Chou was<i> really </i>good at whatever he was doing.</p><p>"Chou... I–<i>mmm.</i>" A hand in the front of his jacket silenced him, the connection between his brain and mouth severed as soon as fingers pinched his nipple. </p><p>"What was that, tori?" Chou purred in his ear. It was hot, predatory, and it made Sanosuke want nothing more than to beg Chou to do him right there on the couch. The drag of leather gloves on his bare skin, the threat of pain provided by those teeth, the knowledge that they could be caught doing this in the fucking police station, all had Sanosuke ready to lose it. But it ended too soon and Sanosuke wasn't sure if Chou had been teasing him the whole time or if he'd heard something Sanosuke missed, like approaching footsteps or Yuuji's big mouth. </p><p>"The reports were shit, I got more info outta yer ass earlier." Jumping up, Chou straightened out his clothing and crossed the room, smirking back as Sanosuke whined his displeasure into the couch. "It's like they couldn't even be fucked to do the minimum."
</p><p>"Yep." Sanosuke snarled around a mouthful of cushion. He didn't give a shit about its cleanliness as he willed his hard-on to die down, but the stink of tobacco smoke trapped within the fibers didn't make it any easier. Pulling away with a grimace and adjusting himself–movements deliberately slow as he caught Chou watching from the corner of his eye–he stood, figuring they'd be leaving soon if the reports sucked that bad. He couldn't keep the tremor from his voice as he tried to sound normal. "Sounds about right... for these guys. Bunch of lazy assholes." </p><p>"C'mon then, let's go see about that meatsuit." Chou crowded into his space once more like he was going to kiss him but a peck on the tip of his nose was all he received. That, Sanosuke decided, was annoying as shit, because for all of Chou's flirting, he never seemed to like kissing him on the mouth unless they were fucking–and he could count the instances in which it had happened outside of fucking on one hand only. "I wonder if they managed to fuck that up too."</p><p>He tried his hardest to be on his best behavior as they rejoined Yuuji in the bullpen–he really, truly did–but with a renewed arsenal of pent up frustration and an easy target, he just couldn't help himself. Nothing distracted him better than antagonizing the local pigs and, with the morning he'd had, he needed the distraction. Luckily, Chou hadn't seemed to notice anything wrong, so at least he didn't have to worry about prodding questions. He didn't have it in him to think about anything more serious than the upcoming battle, and soon he'd have to ditch Chou to join the others, but, until then, he'd enjoy what time they had left. </p><p>—</p><p>
  <i>Later</i>
</p><p>Seven days, two accidental voyeuristic encounters(though one of them had wisely been cut short before the office couch could be desecrated), and a stolen pack of cigarettes later had Saitou beyond irritated when Chou's Kansai dialect cut through the pleasant silence of his lunch. </p><p>"Found ya!" </p><p>Saitou paused, hands twitching against the desire to throw the bowl at Chou's head.</p><p>"You said make contact at a soba place, but will ya specify <i>which one</i> from now on?!"</p><p>The stall's proprietor turned his back, obviously only pretending to not listen. </p><p>"After lookin' fer a week in all the soba places in Tokyo, I find ya at a booth. Sheesh!"</p><p>Saitou wanted nothing more than to pummel Chou into the dirt–for his tardiness, Saitou told himself, though he knew it wasn't the entire truth–but he still needed the sword-hunter's assistance. So he settled, instead, on antagonizing the man who was as easily riled as another that he knew: "Who are you?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Camo-clad dude= Banjin, who fights Sanosuke at Maekawa dojo, until Iwambo's meatsuit shows up, while Police Chief Uramura's home is attacked by Otowa ch158-161</p><p>Soba stall ending: ch183</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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